Naneth
by The Elleth Meowen
Summary: This explains why Legolas's mother was never mentioned and tells of her fate. I was never satisfied with Jackson's explanation, so I have created my own. I have made sure that it lines up with the book canon, so please inform me of any mistakes you find. Thanks! T for violence, just in case. First fic, you have been warned.
1. Chapter 1: Taken

**Hello! Thank you for reading this! It would be really helpful if you all reviewed and let me know what is good, bad, and incorrect. Thanks!**

 **And my apologies to the first 18 or so people who read this. There was a little mishap when I copied and pasted it. But it should be fixed now. If anyone finds a mistake that I missed, please tell me.**

 **By the way, this story is rated T because of violence. Also, do not expect a lot of fluff. Do not expect any good fluff, either. I stink at fluff. And emotions in general.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to Tolkien. Obviously.**

* * *

Glawardes leaned against a tree and absentmindedly fiddled with her bracelet, watching her only son in admiration as he practiced archery. The young elf was only thirty-eight, but he had nearly mastered the weapon. Glawardes couldn't be more proud, and her son knew it. As he pulled back the bowstring, preparing for another shot at the target, he gave her a showoff-ish look over his shoulder. She got a clear look at his grey eyes, high cheekbones, and dark eyebrows, which were framed by his blond hair. In that instant, he could not have looked more like his father.

"Watch me, Nana," Glawardes's son called. She happily obeyed. Her son turned back to the target and focused intently on its center. Glawardes waited patiently for a few moments, but the elfling focused longer still, until she was quite sure that her son was just trying to build up the suspense. No sooner had she made this conclusion than he released the arrow, sending it flying straight into the center of the target. The boy shouted excitedly, "Did you see that? Did you see that, Nana?"

"Good job, Legolas!" Glawardes praised her son, "I think that now you are more than a match for most of the guards."

Legolas beamed. The comment meant a lot to him. Greenwood had many, many good archers, so to be compared to even just one of them was a huge compliment. He excitedly explained, "I've been practicing really hard lately, but my swordsmanship still needs work. I would really like to become part of the Guard one day. Do you think Ada would approve?"

"I'm sure he will. With your skills, he may even make you Captain," Glawardes reassured him. Mentally, she added, _'And even if he does not let you, I will convince him.'_

As Legolas continued his practicing, Glawardes watched the sky through the trees. The sun was beginning to set, and the clear blue gradually started to stain red and fade to darkness. Soon, it would be too dark for them to find their way back to the palace. Eventually, she let out a long, content sigh and said, "Come on, Legolas. It is getting late. We don't want to keep your father waiting. Maybe we will have deer for dinner tonight."

"But we surely don't have to go now. It's only right over there," Legolas complained, pointing towards the nearby river and the cliff on the other side. Glawardes understood that her son didn't want to go inside, but it really was getting dark. She had already waited too long, so she resorted to warning, "Legolas, it is getting very dark. We need to get inside. Now. You can practice tomorrow."

Legolas was a smart enough boy to know when to pursue an argument with his mother and when arguing was a terrible idea. Right now, it was a terrible idea. He dutifully followed Glawardes as she led the way back to the palace. The guards let them in, a bit surprised that they were still out. Lately, the forest had begun to grow unnaturally dark at night, sometimes lingering into morning. Glawardes knew something had gone astray, but what?

Once she had sent Legolas to dinner, Glawardes set out to find her husband. The darkness was getting a little too strong, and something needed to be done. She would do it herself, but Thranduil was the king, and therefore in charge. The problem was that he wasn't the quickest person to see these types of issues, but Thranduil needed to act before it was too late. She needed to persuade him to move. This should't be too difficult because, being his wife, she was his most trusted adviser and held a lot of sway in his decisions.

* * *

Glawardes accidentally stepped on her dark green dress as she checked the library, but kept her balance. Needless to say, Thranduil was not in there, either. By now she had covered his study room, throne room, and bedroom, and had asked many servants if they knew where he was. Of course, none of them had. Frustrated, Glawardes picked up her skirt and started for the garden, muttering about how dresses were impractical.

She almost tripped several more times but finally found him reading a book in the garden, surrounded by green trees and bright flowers. He smiled as she approached and greeted, "Good day, Glawardes."

"Good day, Thranduil," Glawardes returned. Thranduil gracefully took her hand, kneeled, and gently put it to his lips, causing her heart to flutter. He then stood up and looked straight into her bright blue eyes, noticing that something haunted her. His wife's thoughts were well hidden to most, but he knew her well enough to take a few educated guesses. Nonetheless, he asked anyway, tucking a stray strand of wavy, blond hair behind her pointed ear, "What troubles you, my love?"

If he knew her well enough to assume her thoughts, then she knew him well enough to say, "I suppose you already know."

"Tell me anyway," Thranduil insisted, sitting back down on the bench. Glawardes sat down beside him and explained, "The darkness is growing, Thranduil. You know it. And it will continue to grow until we find the cause and destroy it. If the Enemy has returned, then we must know."

Thranduil thought about what his wife had just said. It made sense, but he doubted that the Enemy had returned. Sauron had been defeated only 1,050 years ago. The only evidence of evil in Greenwood was the rare giant spider and occasional orc. He voiced his opinions, "Greenwood is safe. The Enemy was defeated by Isildur, and he has not yet returned. If anything is amiss in Greenwood, then it will start at Dol Guldur, which is closer to Lothlorien than us."

"We cannot wait for bad things to happen to us, Thranduil," Glawardes insisted, "Sometimes, we must act _before_ our enemies. I know that Sauron was destroyed, but I cannot rid this feeling that it is him. The darkness would not have come from anything else, and we all know that the Ring survived. And the wizards have been sent here to oversee that he doesn't come back. Why would they need to come here if that danger was not present?"

"You are worrying too much. We are safe," Thranduil lightly assured. Glawardes crossed her arms and glared at him. Why was he being so stubborn? It was obvious that this physical darkness beginning to plague the forest was the start of something bigger. Her eye caught his, and she increased the intensity of her stare. Suddenly Thranduil laughed, "You look so beautiful when you are mad!"

Glawardes's mouth slightly dropped open with indignation. _'Seriously?_ ' she thought, _'He is_ laughing _at me?'_

"I'll promise you this," Thranduil continued, seeing that she was being really serious. He pulled her closer to him and promised, "I'll send some scouts to Dol Guldur. Will that make you happy?"

"Only if I get to say, 'I told you so,' when I end up being right."

"Deal," Thranduil smiled. Glawardes smiled back at him. She had never seen Thranduil unhappy, and doubted that he ever could be. He was kind and gentle and patient and loving. And she loved him right back. Nothing could change the fact that they loved each other.

 _'And nothing will,'_ she thought.

Glawardes leaned her head against his shoulder, and Thranduil ran his hand through her wavy, silvery-blond hair. They sat there for a few minutes, forgetting everything, just savoring the moment. Until Legolas ran past the garden, followed by an angry cook shouting, "Come hither with my muffins!"

Thranduil and Glawardes stared after them in shock, laughing. Finally, Glawardes commented, "It looks like our son has gotten into mischief again. I should remedy of that. And you _are_ going to send scouts, right?"

"I will," Thranduil replied. His wife raised an eyebrow, "Right now?"

"I promise," he answered.

* * *

That was nearly a month ago. The scouts had returned bearing news that an army of orcs was arising in Dol Guldur, and Glawardes took little pleasure in her bragging rights. Unfortunately, the scouts did not know what was summoning the army. Thranduil guessed that the orcs were acting alone. Glawardes still felt like something more evil and cunning than a sorcerer was behind this, but Thranduil dismissed her concerns. Something he rarely did.

Since then, they had kept a close eye on the fortress. Each day, the orcs had grown stronger, forging weapons and armor non-stop. Glawardes urged her husband to strike while the orcs were weak, but he didn't see them as a threat yet. Eventually, the Elvenqueen became exhausted from her constant nagging and gave up.

But the time had come for them to accept war. The orcs were marching to their fair realm now. Thranduil had waited too long. Once again, Glawardes was given the bragging rights.

Glawardes prepared for the battle alongside her husband. Almost every elf was going to fight, as long as they were old enough. This meant that a very frustrated Legolas was going to have to stay behind. He complained, "But I want to help defend the kingdom!"

"No, Legolas, we need you here," Thranduil told him. The young prince pouted, "But I can fight!"

"You cannot fight in this battle. Maybe when you are older you can help me lead the soldiers against our enemies, but not today," the king replied. Glawardes watched her son turn to her for support. She could only offer him a smile and gently say, "It will be fine, Legolas. We promise to stay safe. Besides, the battle won't be near as exciting as you think."

Legolas pouted some more and walked away, angry at his parents for not letting him join. He was more than capable of defending himself. He _was_ capable. More capable than he assumed his mother was, anyway. He muttered something about how she would most likely be injured in the first few minutes, and desired even more to fight and defend the ones he loved.

Glawardes knew what he was thinking as he walked away, but didn't dwell on it for long. There was a battle to win. She accompanied Thranduil as he joined the army of elves waiting outside the palace. With one last look at her home, she followed her king as he led the army and marched to meet the orcs.

It was a shorter trip than Glawardes expected. They had left around noon, and now it was just getting dark. Everyone's swords glowed blue as they faced the opposing force. There had to be at least three orcs for every elf, and they had brought a _lot_ of elves. This was not including the trolls. Glawardes mumbled sarcastically, just loud enough for Thranduil to hear, "They aren't a threat?"

"Well, the scouts didn't say that there would be this many," he whispered back defensively. Glawardes chuckled, "They never do. But do not worry. Our skill is greater than theirs."

With a loud, horrible war cry, the orcs advanced quickly, ready to shed blood. They were still a good distance away, but it was only a matter of minutes before they would reach them. Thranduil shouted, "Draw your swords!"

Everyone obeyed. The orcs were only a matter of yards away now. They looked fierce, but the elves felt no fear. They were fighting for their homes, their friends, their families. These orcs were going to die. Thranduil shouted more orders, "Release the arrows!"

Suddenly, arrows poured down from the trees onto the invading force, who were only a few feet away. The hidden archers had taken the army by surprise, just as Thranduil had predicted. Most of the orcs died instantly, but a few managed to continue onward. Glawardes gripped her sword tighter. This was when the real battle was going to begin.

The first orc that ran at her was instantly stabbed, though not by her. Glawardes decapitated the next one and gave Thranduil an annoyed look, but he had already felled another foe. He glanced at her and smirked, "That's two for me."

"Only because you killed mine! That was not fair!" she retorted, bringing her sword down on another orc. She killed two more before shouting at him, "That makes four!"

"Only four? I just smote my seventh!" he shouted back, a bodiless orc head falling from his weapon. It was an unfair match, and she knew it. Thranduil had always been the better fighter. But it was fun, nonetheless, so she humored him by playing along.

They were being approached by some trolls now, but Glawardes noticed that most of the orc forces seemed be holding back. This registered in her brain, and she suspected that they had a strategy. She beheaded another opponent and glanced around, but she couldn't find Thranduil in the swirling mass of bodies (not all of which were alive). Since Thranduil commanded the army, she could do nothing until she found him.

So, Glawardes decided to deal with the enemies she could, which meant taking care of five more orcs and a warg, bringing her total up to ten. Where the warg came from, she did not know. Mounts weren't often used in forest battles, because the trees and bushes usually got in the way. But the orcs must have brought them, because there were several more wargs being ridden around the battlefield. Even with the wargs, the orcs were having a hard time fighting the elves, probably because of the archers. Glawardes finally spotted Thranduil in the front, leading his people to victory.

Some of the orcs that were holding back suddenly decided to flee. That was good. Now the orc army had been cut down to two-thirds its original size.

But there were still the trolls to worry about. Glawardes tried to run to the king and warn him of the orcs still holding back, but three orcs and a troll stood in her way. The orcs she dealt with easily, but the large troll was a different matter. It raised its weapon, a large stone club, and slung it down like a hammer. Glawardes barely dodged the blow, and the ground trembling a moment with the impact. The troll tried again, and again, and again, but each time she jumped out of the way. The troll grew tired long before her, and soon it could barely lift the club. She used this to her advantage and, after the next attempt, scurried up the stone and firmly planted her sword in its head. It fell with a loud thump, and Glawardes lightly hopped off, thinking, _'I wonder if that counts as two?'_

She looked around again for Thranduil, but he had disappeared again. Unfortunately, that was not what worried her at the moment. Orcs were closing in on their right side. They were about to be flanked! If she didn't find the king in about twenty seconds, a lot of elves were going to lose their lives. In a split-second decision, she made up her mind. There was no time to find the king.

"Elves of Greenwood, defend the flank!" Glawardes screamed as she charged the oncoming regime. Many elves joined her, rallying to their queen. It was glorious and terrifying. The elves crashed into the orcs, creating a two-front battle. The first line of orcs didn't stand a chance. Neither did the second line, or most of the third, but then Glawardes met a challenge. By the time her group had taken care of the third line, which had raised her score to sixteen, they had been surrounded. She now knew what had happened to that strategy she suspected the orcs had formed. This was it.

In her fury and excitement, she had led her small band farther from the main group than she had wanted, allowing more orcs and trolls to cut them off. Glawardes looked around frantically for any sign of escape, but there was none. The orcs had completely surrounded them. She fought and killed as many enemies as she could, but Glawardes was powerless to stop the massacre she had led some of her people, her friends, into. She saw Camendir, Camenion, and Celegwen all beheaded. Eriel and Thurendir were stabbed just feet away from her. Moririel and Morivanya, two sisters that Glawardes had known since they were born just 300 years ago, were already lying dead beside each other but were still being hewed and sliced. All around her, her kin - her people - were dying. And it was all her fault.

Suddenly, something rammed into the back of her skull, sending her flying. Glawardes hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from her. She rolled onto her back, gasping for breath, and saw the cause of her fall: an orc. Franticly, she reached for her sword, but it was laying on the ground a meter away. Nothing could save her as the orc raised his sword, preparing to end her the same way she had ended twenty-one of its friends, if you could call them that. She shielded her head and waited for the end.

It never came. Hoping beyond reason that Thranduil had seen her group and had broken through the barrier of orcs, Glawardes peeked over her hands. It was not Thranduil, but another orc that had come to her rescue. He looked down at her from his warg with hate, but at least he stopped the orc from killing her. Oh, who was she trying to fool? Whatever he planned to do with her, death was probably merciful.

He growled something to a few surrounding orcs in the Black Speech, and immediately they sprang for her, which was more terrifying than the orc with the sword. She shielded herself, closed her eyes, and screamed as she felt hands grabbing her arms and legs, but her calls were drowned in the overall clashing of swords and shouts from the wounded. A nasty cloth was wrapped around her mouth so she couldn't yell for help, not that anyone would hear her, and her wrists and ankles were bound. She was placed on the warg with the orc and noticed several other riders with them as well, though none carried survivors. In fact, she saw no one from her group. They had all died. Grief overwhelmed her, strengthening when she realized that she would never see Thranduil or Legolas again. Oh, why hadn't she said goodbye? Why hadn't she treasured those years with them?

The wargs took off, bearing her further and further from her home. The battle was quickly swallowed by the trees, making Glawardes more anxious. She was never going to come back. No one could help her. No one would find her, much less get there in time. Wherever "there" is.

 _'But that's not entirely true,'_ she thought, _'Thranduil will send scouts. He will look for me. The entire kingdom will be after these orcs. He just has to know that I am alive.'_

She immediately thought of her bracelet. Thranduil had given it to her when they were still courting. He would be able to recognize it anywhere, and since it was so far away from the battle, it would surely alert him to her predicament. After all, she rarely took it off, even when sleeping. Yes, that would be perfect. But how would she get it off without the orcs noticing?

That didn't prove to be as difficult as she had first thought. Her bracelet was open at the back, so all she had to do was slide it off. Even with her hands tied, it wasn't too hard. Once it was off, Glawardes dropped it, accidentally hitting the warg in the process. But the warg didn't react and the orcs didn't notice, so everything was fine.

But as they continued riding, Glawardes began to wonder if the orcs wanted to be followed. They must have figured out that she was the queen, which would explain why they had spared her. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her husband would do anything necessary to get her back safely. If they planned to weaken him, this was the way to do it.

These suspicions were partially confirmed when the orcs stopped at the edge of the forest and removed her wedding ring. Then, all but five orcs continued to run forward, taking the ring with them. The five that remained with her turned south. Glawardes could feel her blood freeze and her heartbeat quicken. Now she knew what they were planning. She knew where she was being taken. She knew that her suspicions had not been entirely false.

They were taking her to Dol Guldur, and that meant that the Enemy had returned.

* * *

 **So, what did you guys think? I will probably update every Monday or Tuesday. Please review!** **And don't worry. The story gets better than this.**

 **Also, I'm pretty sure that you can review this even if you don't have an account. Just letting you know, since it took me a while to figure that out. Anyway, I hope you people have a wonderful day!**

 **EDIT: Please do not post negative comments without giving me a way to correct it. I want this fanfic to be the best it can be, and telling me "This is trash" or "I hate it" does not solve the problem. And I meant it when I said it gets better. Might get better several chapters down, but it gets better. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2: Hurt

**Seriously, people? I have just finished working out the bug in the first chapter, and my views had doubled in the meantime. Do some of you not realize what "DO NOT READ" means?**

 **On the other hand, about three of you continued into this chapter. How have you been able to read the first one? Or did you just want to see if the second one was just as messed up?**

 **Anyway, this one should be good now, so enjoy your reading! And please review!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for my OC. Nothing else. Period.**

* * *

Thranduil had been leading his people to victory for the past seven hours. If he were any other race, he would have been exhausted. But he was an elf, and proud of it. The last orcs were running away in fear. Of the legions that had come, fewer than twenty were left, while his own people had only suffered minimal losses in comparison, save a group who had taken it upon themselves to defend the flank. They were all dead and being mourned for. Though he didn't show it, he grieved for the ones lost, whom he should have protected.

He had noticed that all of the elves in that group were close friends to his wife. She would no doubt be mourning for them and would want some comforting, so he searched for her there. But to his surprise, he could not find her. This didn't worry him though. She must not have heard about her friends' deaths yet.

He gave orders concerning the dead and wounded, and then continued to search for Glawardes. Despite not being worried, the king still wanted to find her. Not really to see if she was ok, but to know her total. Thranduil had killed fifty-six orcs, which he knew would be far above her numbers.

He was confident in his wife. She was a skilled warrior. Not as skilled as he, perhaps, but skilled enough to hold her own. Even the thought of her being wounded was really unthinkable. She was just too good a fighter.

Thranduil searched for a long while, asking his soldiers and checking among the wounded in case she was helping to heal them. But she couldn't be found anywhere. It was kind of ironic, really, how he was searching for her like she had searched for him. But Thranduil had no knowledge of the irony, and even if he did, he wouldn't care. Glawardes's absence was starting to bother him. Where was his wife? Surely, she wasn't hurt, was she? Normally, he found her easily, but today was proving to be different.

Finally, he found a soldier who knew what had happened to her. Thranduil was overjoyed, but calmly prompted, "Please, tell me."

"My King, Queen Glawardes was leading the group that defended the flank. The last I saw of her was ere the orcs cut them off," the soldier informed. Thranduil gaped at him in utter shock. His wife, dead? The soldier, seeing the king's horror, tried to sympathize, "My brother was fighting as well. I… I am sorry! I should have done aided them!"

The soldier started to silently cry. Thranduil uncomfortably put his hand on the elf's shoulder, attempting to return the sympathy, but his mind wondered elsewhere. Was Glawardes dead? Could she really be gone? Grief struck the king, and he left the soldier (who was feeling a little better). Thranduil practically ran to the place where his wife was last seen. He no longer cared if his men saw how distraught he was. He just wanted to find Glawardes.

 _'Oh, my beautiful Glawardes, where have you gone? Do not leave me. Do not leave your husband and your son,'_ he thought as he searched among the dead elves and orcs strewn about the ground erratically. Some of his captains had finally begun to notice that the king was acting… strange. They dutifully asked him what was wrong. He replied in a voice that betrayed a little too much emotion, "Glawardes is missing. Have any elf you can spare search for her."

Apparently, the captains had a lot of elves they could spare. Thranduil made a mental note to fix that once they found Glawardes. But for now, his wife was the only thing that mattered. They searched for a long time in the darkness of night, wishing for daylight so that they could see clearly.

Finally, as dawn approached, they found their first clue: her crown. It was a beautiful circlet that matched the bracelet Thranduil had given her. It must have fallen off during the battle. Thranduil and his men swept the area around it, but still could not find a trace of the queen. Thranduil was heartbroken.

But one of the soldiers did find an abundant amount of warg tracks nearby, all heading in the same direction. It was clear that the queen had been captured. No one could guess why, but it was certainly not for any good purpose. This devastated Thranduil. His beloved wife was in the hands of merciless orcs, and orcs had a reputation for torturing their victims to death even before they reach their destination.

He resolved to chase after them immediately. There was no time to lose. Unfortunately, no one had brought the horses, since this was a forest battle. One unlucky soldier pointed this out, and was answered with a fierce, "Then retrieve them!"

Thranduil had not meant to sound harsh, but his heart was being ripped from his chest at the thought of Glawardes being in danger. He immediately softened his tone and addressed everyone, "I will lead a group of twenty to recover my wife. The rest of you should get back to the palace. Send us horses as soon as you are able."

And with that, the king departed with twenty soldiers. Tracking the filth that had taken the queen was not difficult, because wargs did not tread lightly. It was almost noon, however, when they found their second clue: her bracelet. Thranduil had been the one to find it, and it gave him hope that she was still alive. They ran on with more vigor.

It was not long after that when twenty more soldiers and two healers arrived with the horses and Thranduil's own war-elk. He was now leading a force of 42 angry elves on a rescue mission. He only hoped that they could reach her in time.

They finally made it to the edge of the woods. It had started to rain, washing away some of the fainter tracks. Thankfully, the main horde's path was still clear. The wargs had clearly been hard-pressed by the orcs, leaving behind a distinct path that would take a lot of rain to wash away. The elves continued to ride on, Thranduil in the lead. The king gripped his wife's crown and bracelet, trying to keep his hopes up by picturing her face when he found her. It didn't really work, though, because every time he did her face was covered in bruises and cuts.

Needless to say, he gave up on encouraging himself and focused on saving her. It was now clear where the orcs were headed: Gundabad. It was obvious, because the orcs had turned their rides north when they reached the Anduin River. Thranduil and his people followed. The horses needed a break every few hours, but Thranduil would not wait long. It was a four day journey, at the least, and the orcs had gotten half a day's worth of a head start. Thranduil could not afford a break.

* * *

After four days of seemingly endless, eventless riding, Thranduil and his men arrived at Gundabad. It was a desolate place, but it was far from empty. A drove of orcs mocked them from the safety of their fortress. Thranduil was angry and defiant, but it bothered him that his love was somewhere in that forbidding place. He had not known that so many orcs were here. How was he going to rescue Glawardes now?

A huge orc appeared above the gate. He was uglier than most orcs, and clearly smarter. He called down in a gruff, insulting voice, "Why has the great Elvenking suffered us with his presence?"

"Do not play games with me, worm! We have tracked a horde of your worthless pests to this mountain. You have taken something of mine, and it would be in your best interest to return it, if you value your foul skin!" Thranduil called back.

The orc had every intention to play games. He stood there, pretending to think, drawing out the moment as long as he could. Finally, he exclaimed, "Oh! I remember! Here, you can have it. It doesn't have much value, anyway."

The foul creature held something small above his head like a trophy before throwing it to the ground in front of Thranduil. It was a small metal band. A golden ring. Glawardes's wedding ring. Thranduil looked back up at the orc, furious. The orc called out, "Told you it was worthless. Now is there anything else you need? Or will you be leaving now?"

"I wish for my wife! Unhand her! Or you will rue the day we ever crossed paths!"

"Don't worry so much," the orc sneered, "We have already unhanded her. How do you think we got the ring off? We unhanded, unfooted, unarmed, and unlegged her. Too bad she couldn't handle the pain; it was entertaining to hear her squeal."

"No," Thranduil gasped. He wouldn't believe it. His wife, his beloved Glawardes, could not have suffered that much torture. It was unimaginable, unthinkable. The orc would not shut his gob, "She died, but don't worry about that either. We fed her remains to the wargs who so faithfully brought her here. We barely had time to watch before her body was ripped to pieces and eaten. You should have told us you were coming. I might have saved a finger for you."

The Elvenking was insanely furious by now, but the orc just would not take a hint. He looked Thranduil straight in the eye, somehow completely missing the death glare, and said with half seriousness, "You really should thank us, you know. Now you don't have to worry about a burial cere-."

That was the last thing that orc ever said. Before he could complete the thought, Thranduil had shot an arrow through his head. The other orcs stood in utter shock as their foolish leader, whom they had been cheering on, fell to the ground. Then, they grabbed their wargs and fled before the wrath of the Elvenking to Angmar, which was just over the mountains, to bring backup. They feared that there was not enough of them to repel the angry king, so the fortress was temporarily abandoned.

Thranduil knew that it was only a matter of days before the orcs would return with even greater numbers. He and his men got to work searching the fortress for the queen. They explored every hallway, examined every room, inspected every nook and cranny. They found evidence that their wargs had been fed fresh blood recently, but it was impossible to tell if the blood was elvish. Several actual elves were found in the dungeons, their original homes ranging from Rivendell to Lothlorien to Thranduil's own Greenwood, but no trace of Glawardes was discovered. Furthermore, none of the formerly captive elves had seen her.

Then again, hardly any of them had seen each other. Everyone confessed to have heard tortured screaming, but it turned out that that was a regular occurrence in Gundabad. In the end, several theories were made, but none of them were confirmed. Thranduil was distraught. _'What has happened to my wife?'_ he wondered, sitting down on a low, cruel-looking table that was probably a torture device. He reasoned, _'She can not be dead. I would feel that. But there is no other place the trail led. If she is not here, then where is she? Could she have escaped? How would that be possible? Did we miss something? No, we couldn't have. We had been very careful. That was impossible.'_

Thranduil was soon forced out of the fortress by an oncoming army of Angmar orcs. It took them five long, depressed days to return to Greenwood. Though they were welcomed back with open arms, there was no celebration for their return. The queen had not been found. There was no cause for celebration. The king just wanted to be left alone. He quickly arranged for the rescued elves to be returned to their homes, and promptly departed for his chambers after doing so.

Unfortunately, one little detail stood in his way. Legolas, his son, who seemed so grown up and yet so innocent, asked him, "Ada, what is wrong? The battle was more than a week ago, yet you did not return with the others. No one will tell me how the battle went about. What happened to delay you, and where is Nana?"

"Legolas," Thranduil choked. He had not once thought of his son the entire trip. How was he going to tell him that she was gone? Missing, and possibly dead? Thranduil's throat threatened to close, but he refused. He had to be strong for his son. Legolas noticed his father's hesitation and prompted worriedly, "Ada? Is everything well? Nana _is_ here, right?"

"No, Legolas," Thranduil finally said, "She is not here. Your mother is missing. We do not know where she is."

Legolas stared at him blankly before backing away slowly, shaking his head, "No. No! You are wrong!"

"Legolas," Thranduil tried to comfort him, but he backed away more. The prince sobbed, "You are wrong! You have to be! Nana can not be gone! You are lying!"

Legolas collapsed in the middle of the hallway. Thranduil knelt beside him and hugged his son. The prince did not refuse his father's comfort, but hugged him back, sobbing uncontrollably, "I never said goodbye. I am such a fool. I said she was incapable. I am an idiot."

Thranduil was never really comfortable in situations where comfort was needed, but he did his best and whispered, "I never said goodbye, either. But we will find her. We will never stop searching. We _will_ find her, Legolas."

* * *

Meanwhile, Glawardes was also crying. She was currently locked in a tiny iron cage hanging above Dol Guldur. Several orcs patrolled the castle-like stronghold, mocking her whenever they passed. She sobbed silently, thinking, _'I never said goodbye. My son thinks I am incapable. He is right. I am an idiot. I led my friends to their deaths, and was captured myself. My husband will never find me here. No help will come. I am alone.'_

"Come here, _queen_ ," a nearby orc spat. Glawardes jumped and leaned towards the back of her cage as he marched towards her. She eyed the thick chain supporting her cage and wondered what it would take to break it, allowing her a faster death by falling several hundred feet. The orc seemed to know her thoughts and laughed, "There's no easy way out of this one, missy. You have a due appointment with the Tickler, and he doesn't like to wait!"

The orc unceremoniously swung her cage onto the floor, opened it, and roughly dragged her out. The surrounding orcs spat on her and teased her as she was pulled through the stronghold. Several of those orcs followed them into a large chamber in the bottom level. The chamber had a few tables with thick straps attached and a high ceiling. A large, fat figure started to move on the other side of the room.

The "Tickler" turned out to be a huge goblin with a highly sadistic mind. Or maybe it was a troll. Glawardes couldn't decide on anything other than the obvious: whatever they were going to do to her was going to hurt really, really bad. They strapped her to a table while the Tickler prepared his tools. Glawardes didn't know what to expect until she noticed that all but two orcs had left the room, looking back at her with something close to genuine pity.

Unexplainable dread filled her. If his could move _orcs_ to pity, or something vaguely similar to it, then she was probably going to die within the hour. Once again, she wished for a quick death. And once again, an orc read her thoughts, "There will be no quick death for you, missy! It will be slow and painful. Entertaining, too, for those that have the stomach. Tickler knows how to make you scream, and scream you will! You will scream the answers to our questions!"

The two remaining orcs laughed maniacally. Glawardes shuddered, but hid her fear the best she could. These orcs were not going to hear her scream. She was going to remain strong. The orcs will not break her. She was an elf.

But they had broken elves before, in the time of Morgoth. It would not be hard to break another one.

"First question," snarled the meaner-looking of the two, "How many elves are in your army?"

"Enough to defeat _you_ ," Glawardes smirked. A sudden pain entered through her leg and coursed through her body like fire. She bit back a scream, still determined not to give them any satisfaction. While she had been defying the two orcs, the Tickler had stuck a metal spear into her leg. He then removed it and quickly stopped the bleeding. The two orcs laughed again before demanding, "Answer our question."

"No," she said bluntly. The Tickler made no move this time, but Glawardes was beginning to feel nauseous. She looked at the spear more closely and noticed a liquid residue on it, and it was not blood. It was poison. The orcs laughed some more, "It won't kill you, don't worry. But it will make it more interesting."

A bad taste rose in her throat, and she started to throw up. All she could do is turn her head to the side to prevent from choking on the vomit. It was a while before the orcs could ask her anything else. That must have been some very powerful poison.

"Will you answer it now?" the orcs asked. Glawardes set her jaw and answered the same way she did last time, "No."

"Perhaps you need more persuasion," the mean one said. The Tickler didn't use poison this time. He used fire. Actual fire. A red coal was pressed into her arm. The searing pain became too much to bear, and Glawardes screamed. She screamed long and loud, and sobbed when the coal was removed. The pain lingered, and it would for a long time. Still, she answered their probing the same, "Never!"

"If you will not answer that question, fine. What does Thranduil know about the Master?"

This time, Glawardes didn't even have a chance to say no before something ripped into her flesh. She gave a startled cry and looked at her body. Blood oozed from several gashes in her abdomen, which was cleaned up quickly. The Tickler held up a hand after he was done, as if to say, "Wait for it."

 _'Wait for what?'_ Glawardes wondered, before an agonizing throb seized her body. I slowly turned into a pulsing torment. She screamed loudly and started to have violent seizures, and struggled against the leather restraints. What was happening to her?

Her vision was blurry and her head felt like it was going to explode, but the pain ceased after a few minutes. The orcs mocked her, but again pressed for information. She still would not answer. In fact, she didn't say anything. They growled, "Fine. Yes or no, _does_ Thranduil know about the Master?"

Without any warning, the most excruciating pain yet ripped through her body. Glawardes had difficulty even screaming. Her blood pounded in her ears, and her body felt like it was going to break apart. Every inch of her cramped and ached unbearably, and at the same time she felt like she was being trampled by a horse. She couldn't breath, and probably the most frightening of all, she didn't know what they had done to her. Faintly, she could hear the orcs continue to ask "yes or no" questions, but to her knowledge all she did was scream back, "STOP! AHHHH! Please! PLEASE!"

Then again, she didn't know _what_ she was saying.

Finally, _finally_ , the pain started to subside. Glawardes gasped for breath, having used it all by screaming. The orcs nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, we thought as much. Thank you for your cooperation."

"I-I did-did not cooperate," Glawardes protested in between breaths. One orc left, but the mean one stayed behind. He chuckled, "That is what you think. But did you not hear your own screams? You answered every question we asked you. We broke you, without you even knowing it. You have betrayed your people, and your _love_."

The orc spat the word out like it was a foul taste in his mouth, then left the room. Glawardes had little doubt that she did accidentally answer the questions, but she couldn't remember what they were. She gave up on trying to remember and looked expectantly at the troll-thing that had been torturing her, thinking that she could go back to her cage now. The Tickler smiled greedily and pulled out a variety of different instruments, and not the musical kind. Glawardes suddenly understood that the orcs had been holding him back, and were now rewarding his patience with freedom to do whatever he wanted with her. He picked up a particularly spiky pole and connected it to a particularly strong rope.

 _'This is about to be extremely painful,'_ Glawardes thought. _'I only hope that I can escape.'_

* * *

 **So, what did you think? Like it so far? I'm sorry if the writing style was bad, especially during Thranduil's scene. Please let me know what you think!**

 **Also, bonus points for whoever gets where I got the name "Tickler."**


	3. Chapter 3: When Someone Loses an Eye

**Disclaimer: If you can not differentiate between Tolkien's work and mine, you have no business reading this.**

* * *

Glawardes sat in her cage, exhaustedly leaning against the thick metal bars. She had long ago lost track of how long she had been held captive, trapped in her little cage, but it had at least been a few centuries. At _least_. Glawardes desperately wanted to get out of there, to escape the suffering. The torture. The pain. Every other day, they would come. The orcs would drag her back to that accursed cavern. To the Tickler.

Every part of her ached, and not just because some muscles were strained and torn. She had scars all over her body. Dots and lines ran from the bottom of her shoeless feet to her forehead, but they were only the ones that were visible. Poison left no mark, no indication that it had hammered her nervous system and churned her stomach. But that was not the worst. The worst were the emotional scars. The illnesses they had set in her mind. Glawardes never hoped any more. She never dreamed. They had made her give up on both. They had convinced her that she was a danger. They kept reminding her that she had led her friends to their _deaths_. They brought back memories of all her mistakes and failures, twisting them into something even worse than they were. She was a shell of her former self. All she could remember of her past life were the faces of her husband and her son. Their disappointed, scowling faces.

But she could heal. Her pains only needed time and care. They would all heal, if she could just get out.

Glawardes heard footsteps approaching. She looked up and saw Snagagul, the mean orc from her first torture, staring back at her. She pressed against the back of her tiny cage, helplessly and desperately screaming, "No! Don't take me back there! Please!"

He smirked menacingly at her futile pleas. She knew he would not spare her, but it was worth a try. She struggled desperately to get the cage unhooked herself, for the millionth time wanting to fall to her death. It had taken her a month to figure out how to do it, but by then she was too weak. She could barely stand as it was.

Snagagul laughed at her foolish attempt and picked up her cage, slamming it into the floor behind him. Glawardes felt another gash open on her head, which was now quite a bit lighter than normal. The orc opened the cage and had to literally drag her halfway down to the Tickler before she recovered enough to keep up. She made no attempt to struggle, having learned the first couple of weeks that it was pointless. Besides, she was going to need her strength during the torture session.

They tortured her now for their own amusement. All the information they wanted had spilled from her lips, though she was never fully conscious that she had given it to them. It was always when they inflicted their worst torture onto her when she would answer. And she never knew what she had said until afterwards, when they would laugh in her face.

Snagagul opened the doors and pushed Glawardes into the chamber. She stumbled and almost fell, barely catching herself on the table. She was about to run — it wouldn't have helped, but it was worth trying — but something wrapped around her waist. It was a very large hand. She screamed as the Tickler hefted her into the air and set her on the table, starting to strap her in.

 _'_ _Oh, no. Not again. Please, please not again. I can't bear this much longer,'_ Glawardes prayed, frightened tears rolling down her cheek. She fought against the troll, vainly trying to get away. Snagagul had to hold her down while the Tickler fastened her to the table. Glawardes was certain that she would not survive this session. The pain would kill her.

"The Master wishes to see you," a scratchy voice said from the direction of the doorway. The Tickler stopped tying her and Snagagul moved slightly, allowing Glawardes a faint glimpse of a particularly scrawny orc trembling at the doorway. Snagagul was not impressed. He impatiently asked, "Can it wait?"

"N-no, sir. He wishes to see you now."

"Shai!" Snagagul cursed under his breath. He started to follow the orc out the door, calling over his shoulder, "Continue to bind her, but don't start until I return."

The door shut, and Glawardes was left alone with the most sadistic creature in Dol Guldur. He tried to secure another strap, but she had other plans. Despite wallowing in her self-pity and disgust for the past few hundreds of years, she had retained her cunning wit and intelligence. Hopefully, that would be enough to get her past the gates.

She moved and wriggled and kicked and would not stay still until the Tickler completely gave up on tying the other two limbs (her left side was already tied) by himself and resorted to using some of his tools, which were scattered all over the place on either side of her.

The Tickler was not the brightest troll in Middle Earth. He had never had any real trouble with his victims before. And he had never had to tie his victims to the table without help before now. So, when he turned to search for something that would allow him to simply nail her to the table, he didn't grab her right arm. He only thought about grabbing her right leg, since it had been kicking him for the past four minutes.

With the Tickler's attention turned elsewhere, Glawardes seized the opportunity to quickly undo the leather restraint on her other wrist and grab the nearest torture device: a sharp stick coated with thick poison. At the same time, the Tickler had also grabbed a similar device for his own use. He turned back to her and was caught completely off guard by a sharp stick speeding towards his face.

Glawardes shoved the stick into his eye. He let out a short, sharp cry before crumbling to the ground. Glawardes wasn't sure if that would kill him or how much time she had, but she didn't dwell on it and quickly untied her left foot. She needed to get out of there before Snagagul came back, and who knew when that would be.

At the thought of Snagagul returning, she grabbed two similar sticks and hurried to the door, praying to the Valar, _'Thank you for getting me out of the chamber! Now can I please get out of this place altogether?'_

The door opened just before she reached it, warning her of an approaching orc half a moment before she saw it. The orc died noiselessly. No doubt he had been too shocked that she had escaped to sound a warning. So far, luck was on her side.

Glawardes pulled the stick out of its skull and continued onward as fast as she could, though she could only manage a light, painful jog because of the huge blisters and cuts and bruises on her feet and legs. This alarmed her, because she would need to outrun the wargs if she wanted to escape alive. At this rate, the orcs wouldn't need the wargs to catch her.

Glawardes resolved to be as stealthy as she could, as fast as she could. Fortunately, she was already on the bottom level, which was where the exit was. It wasn't too far away, either. Unfortunately, the paths between the torture chambers and the exit were heavily guarded. That was going to make sneaking out even harder.

But she didn't have any time to think about that. Already, she had spotted four guards making their way along the path towards the torture chambers. No, time was not in her favor. Glawardes ducked behind a small tower, edging around it so that it was always between her and the orc guards. Then, once she was sure the coast was clear, she jogged to a nearby rock, ducking behind it. Two orcs were sleeping farther up the path, and three more stood just beyond that. She tried to remember what she had seen from her cage, and recalled that there were two more guard posts past that one.

Glawardes was suddenly thankful that her once beautiful dress had deteriorated and darkened, helping her blend in with the dull rocks and crumbling structures. She stayed close to the walls and hid behind any debris she could find. Fear and desperation gnawed at her empty stomach. She had to get out. This was her chance.

She made it past three of the four posts that had stood in her way just moments ago. She was almost free. Glawardes just needed to get past the remaining two guards and over the bridge, then all she had to do was keep from getting caught immediately. Then she would be free.

Just then, a horn sounded. Someone called out, "The prisoner has escaped! Kill the she-elf! Don't let her get away!"

In a momentary burst of panic and adrenaline that was purely animal, Glawardes pounced on the two orcs, shoving both sticks into their faces. Ignoring the pain surging up and down every inch of her battered body, she sprinted across the bridge and towards the woods, which had steadily grown darker and darker as the years had gone by. She no longer recognized the woods as Greenwood, but that was among the least of her worries at the moment.

She had made it into the woods, but she didn't stop. Wargs growled somewhere behind her. Stopping now would mean death. It was _almost_ funny how she had wished for death just hours ago, and now she was running from it.

Almost.

She knew that the wargs would outrun her. Glawardes could not keep up this pace much longer, and the orcs were getting closer. It was unclear how close they were at the moment, but that distance was declining quickly. She would have to outsmart them. But how?

Glawardes scaled the nearest tree with speed that would rival a cat in the same situation. The thick boughs and dark leaves camouflaged her well, and allowed her some small gaps to look through. The wargs passed by underneath, except for one. There always seemed to be an exception. Unfortunately, the exception seemed to have caught her scent. Glawardes held her breath as the orc called to the others, "I think I found her, Captain Snuggl- I mean Snagagul!"

She felt her mouth drop open. _'Did that orc really just almost call Snagagul Snuggle?'_ Glawardes wondered, _'He is_ so _dead!'_

Indeed, Snagagul appeared below her tree, mounted on his warg. He didn't look too happy. At all. Through the gaps in the leaves, she could barely see the orcs nervously gathering around him, expecting a fight. So many orcs gathered under her tree made her anxious, but she was also strangely intrigued by the impending skirmish.

 _'_ _Oh, no,'_ Glawardes thought, _'I'm turning into one of them! I_ really _need to get away before I become any more violent.'_

 _'_ _This is coming from the elf who just killed a troll and three orcs with a couple of sticks. And don't forget how you got into this mess,'_ she told herself. Any further arguing with herself was cut short by a frightened squeal from below. Snagagul had beheaded the orc in one neat movement, delighting all the other orcs, who _clearly_ loved their comrade. Not.

Snagagul said something in the Black Speech to his warg, who immediately began to sniff the ground and air. Glawardes was absolutely terrified to move, and afraid to even breath. The warg might hear her. It might smell her. It probably would smell her. She was as good as dead.

The warg paced back and forth, sometimes under her tree, sometimes a few feet away. Then, the warg stopped completely and made a small whimpering noise. Snagagul growled with impatience and said, "She is not here. We continue to ride!"

Glawardes watched the orcs ride off, shocked. She was sure that that was going to be the end of her. Not that she was complaining, but the warg should have smelled her. Maybe she had spent so much time with the orcs that now she has begun to smell like them, and that was almost more frightening than being taken back. Whatever happened, she was just glad that it was over. She was hungry, hurt, and tired, but finally free.

 _'_ _But what do I do now?'_ Glawardes wondered, _'Where do I go?'_

It had been so long since she had had a normal life, a life that she controlled, that now she had no idea how to handle freedom. Only two things she knew: don't go back to the orcs, and don't go back to the palace.

* * *

 **Ok, I am up to three favorites, 232 views, and one review. Thanks to _Nimrodel626_ for reviewing!**

 **Brownie points to whoever can tell me what The Tickler was referencing!**

 **And also, since _Nimrodel626_ mentioned this sorry excuse for a fanfic in her author's note, I shall mention hers on mine. It is called  Strangers from a Distant Land. It is amazing. No joke. That story is what inspired me to publish mine. If you like mine (which at least three people do), then you will love hers. PLUS, it is more completed than mine, and she does everything in a way that is _logical_. The characters more or less have a reason to do what they do.**

 **I'm going to stop my rant right there, before it gets out of hand. Thank you guys for reading! See you next Monday!**


	4. Chapter 4: Walking and More Walking

**Hey, guys! Early update because I am going to a youth retreat for the week. I hope that you like it! It may be a bit boring, but I didn't want to skip everything. I'm sorry if you hate it.**

 **I'm hoping to find a lot of reviews when I get back! Not that I _expect_ many reviews when I get back, but that would make me happy. :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Don't sue me.**

* * *

Legolas led the hunting party back into the palace. This was not a hunting party that searched for food. No, it was a hunting party that searched for spiders. Ever since his mother had disappeared, darkness had seeped deeper and deeper into the forest. That was probably because his father, King Thranduil, had limited the Mirkwood elves to their own borders, and prohibited anyone from crossing it without his permission, thus accidentally letting evil things take root in the rest of Mirkwood. Yes, the forest was Mirkwood now, no longer Greenwood the Great. The times were dark, and the forest even darker.

Ever since Glawardes was captured, 1,930 years ago, Thranduil has been keeping Mirkwood out of other people's problems. There was the exception of Erebor and the Battle of Five Armies, which was only thirty-nine years ago, but other than that they kept mostly to themselves. Trading was good, and visitors were seldom, so there was really no need to go anywhere.

Unless, of course, you count the groups of elves who leave to search for the missing queen. The search parties were frequent, often being led by either Legolas or Thranduil themselves. Neither of them had been the same since that one battle, and neither of them had given up on her. Another search party was scheduled to leave today and look near the Gladden Fields, and Legolas was eager to go.

As the hunting party dispersed, he immediately went to the Throne Room. His father was sitting, or really lounging, on the overly antler-decorated chair that overlooked the room. There was only one chair in the Throne Room, since the other one had somehow caught on fire and burned when it was being cleaned a couple centuries ago, which was really depressing to both Legolas and his father. It reminded them that Glawardes was not there. But all was well, since she had never wanted a throne to sit on, claiming that it always felt wrong to her. And there was no way that they were going to build another one in her absence.

While he waited for Thranduil to come out of his thoughts, Legolas reflected on his biggest fear: that he would no longer recognize his own mother. He had been so young when she had been taken, and that was so long ago that he could only remember the faintest outline of her face. He was ashamed to think about it, and never admitted it out loud. He feared that, when they did find his mother, he would not know it was her.

"Legolas," Thranduil greeted him, interrupting his thoughts, "Tell me about the hunting party."

"My King Thranduil," Legolas replied formally, bowing slightly. "We encountered fifty-two spiders today. All were disposed of. No injuries were obtained, apart from a couple of small thorns someone received when they fell into a thorn bush."

"Who fell into a thorn bush?" Thranduil asked, curious. What elf is careless enough to fall into a thorn bush? Actually, what elf was ungraceful enough to fall, period? Legolas shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure how to word it so that the elf didn't seem like a complete klutz. Thranduil raised one of his dark eyebrows, "It was you, wasn't it?"

"Well,… yes," Legolas sighed, heat creeping up his neck. He had been so focused on following the spider tracks, that he hadn't noticed a wayward tree root until his foot had caught it. He was so caught off guard, that he failed to regain his balance and fell into the thorn bush. Thankfully, none of the other party members had seen him. That would have been hard to live down.

Thranduil smiled, the equivalent of laughter. Only his son would manage to do something like that. But something was clearly bothering the prince. Thranduil could see it in his son's posture and the way he gripped the hilt of his sword, which was in its sheath by Legolas's side. Concerned, he asked, "What troubles you?"

Legolas hesitated before answering confidently, "I want to lead the search party departing today for the Gladden Fields."

"But you just got back from the one that searched the Brown Lands," Thranduil protested. "You cannot possibly go on another one. I will not allow it."

"But Ada, I cannot stay here. I need to be doing _something_."

Thranduil thought about this for a moment. His son was always restless nowadays. Legolas knew it, too. But Thranduil didn't want his son to suddenly go missing like Glawardes. He had faith in Legolas, but he had also had faith in her…

"You may not join the search party today," Thranduil commanded, much to Legolas's dismay. He continued, "However, I have an errand you could do instead."

Legolas did not want to go on an errand. He wanted to find his mother! But an errand would get his mind off of the searches for a while, and it would keep him busy while the next one was being scheduled. Plus, it would give him an opportunity to explore some new places. And maybe he could pick up some clue as to where his mother could be. Interested, he asked, "To where?"

"Rivendell," Thranduil replied, "I need you to escort an elf by the name of Lendir. He is moving with his family. They leave tomorrow."

"Yes, King Thranduil. I shall do as you wish," Legolas said. Normally, if an elf got Thranduil's permission to move to another place, then he or she was not provided an escort. Most elves in Mirkwood knew how to defend themselves, so escorts weren't ever really needed. He tried to dismiss the question and turned to leave, but his father had seen right through him. Thranduil stopped him and explained, "He has not been trained with weapons, and his family is young. Also, his daughter has two friends who wish to see her to her new home. They can defend themselves, but would not provide a good defense should they be attacked."

"I understand," Legolas told him. Thranduil continued, "It has been a long day, and you leave at dawn tomorrow. Get some rest."

"Yes, Ada," Legolas replied with a relieved smile before walking away. It _had_ been a long day, and it would have been even longer if he had gone with the search party. But Legolas was still disappointed that he hadn't gotten to go. He always enjoyed… well, everything about it. He had made friends with all of the usual elves who joined the search parties, and it was generally enjoyable to have a challenge. Or it would be, if the reason for the challenge had been better. Legolas's top priority for nearly the past few centuries had been to find his mother.

Legolas entered his room and collapsed onto his bed with a groan. Despite being an elf, he was tired. Fifty-two spiders will do that, even if you have six other elves fighting with you. The job is not ever an easy one.

It wasn't long until he fell asleep, wondering about the family he was going to escort. How young were his children? Did they have a mother? What was it like to still have her?

Was he ever going to get _his_ back?

* * *

Legolas woke up early the next morning, and was ready to leave an hour before the sun rose. Lendir's family, however, was not. As it turned out, only one of his children was above the age of 100. The others were thirty-three, fifty-two, and eighty-seven. The younger three, all boys, were causing a lot of trouble with the family's three mares, who were being used to carry their belongings, and their mother had a difficult time getting them to focus. This delayed the journey until after sunrise. Not that you could really tell much of a difference. The forest was always darker than night.

Eventually, the group set out for Rivendell. Legolas estimated that it was going to take about thirty days at _most_ to get there, since the family was not in a big hurry and the boys were sure to get into mischief. They were going to travel along the Elf-path, attempt to cross the Anduin at the Carrock, and go straight to the High Pass, which would bring them to Rivendell.

Easier said than done.

But Legolas was not going to worry about what might happen. At the moment, he just wanted the three elflings to _stop arguing_. They had been walking for only two hours, most of which was filled with complaining. Who _cares_ if your younger sibling is looking at you? What else is there to look at? Legolas was usually pretty patient, but at this point everyone was in a sour mood. If this continued, then this trip was not going to be pleasant.

The youngest boy, who was named Nelion, whined, "My feet hurt!"

"No, they don't! You're an elf!" protested the oldest boy, Erion.

"Yes, they do!" Nelion insisted. The second youngest, Tadion, joined the bickering, "No, they can't. We haven't been walking _that_ long. What are you, part man?"

"Hey! I am not!"

By this time, everyone was just about willing to strangle the children. Oblivious to this, Erion offered, "Or maybe he's part dwarf. Everyone knows that they don't last over long distances."

"It hasn't been _that_ long of a distance!"

"So you're full dwarf. Is that it?"

"WILL YOU JUST STOP IT ALREADY! A DWARF WOULD BE QUIETER THAN YOU THREE!" their mother reprimanded them, her patience having long ago been depleted. For whatever reason, Tadion didn't get the memo and muttered under his breath to Nelion, "Told you you were like a dwarf."

Tadion's face paled considerably when he saw the furious glare his mother was giving him. She marched up, grabbed his arm, and pulled him farther up the path, leaving Legolas to stare after them. He had no idea what had just happened, and honestly was a bit unwilling to continue until they got back. He never remembered his own mother yelling at him. But then again, he didn't remember a lot of things about her.

The rest of the family continued onwards, so Legolas followed. They eventually reached a shaken Tadion and his mother, whose face was flushed. She, for some reason, decided to apologize for her son's behavior. Legolas didn't understand why there was a need to and heartily insisted that it was not a problem.

Not another word was heard out of any of the boys for a whole, blissful thirty minutes. Then, Nelion saw something interesting and asked, "What kind of mushroom is that?"

Legolas, who had been in the back, walked over to where the young elf was standing. The boy was looking at a couple of white mushrooms with a slightly yellowish top. The boy bent down to pick some, but Legolas grabbed his arm and warned, "That isn't a good idea."

"Why not?" Tadion asked, coming to stand beside his brother. Legolas answered matter-of-factly, "It's called the Death Cap."

The boys backed up a couple of paces, mystified and scared. Satisfied that the boys would not touch it, Legolas jogged to catch up with the group. The boys quickly followed. It was another few minutes before Nelion asked, "What does it do?"

 _'_ _Seriously?'_ Legolas wondered at how naive the elfling was. But before he could say anything, the boy's sister beat him to it, "Eat it and find out."

"Okay."

"NO!" Lendir, Legolas, and all four women shouted. The boy's sister quickly explained, "It will _most likely_ kill you. There is a reason its name has the word 'death' in it!"

"Oh… Thanks, Baimeldis," Nelion replied, bowing his head in embarrassment. Baimeldis gave her brother a withered, sympathetic look before turning back to her friends and continuing the conversation they were having. They spoke quietly, for the most part, occasionally getting louder when they got excited or laughing at something Legolas didn't catch. He was curious to know what was so funny, but figured that he would not be welcomed in the group.

Besides, there were other things to worry about. Spiders infested the trees, although for the most part they stayed away from the path. But if one got bold enough, there would be trouble. Plus, it was getting darker, and they would have to rest soon. They had made pretty good progress so far, but there were still several days left before they reached the end of the forest.

Legolas offered to take first watch, even though there wasn't much watching to do in Mirkwood. The forest was simply too dark, even for an elf. Nonetheless, the family felt safer with him listening to the forest for signs of danger. He watched them in the growing darkness as they pulled out their bedrolls and, one by one, fell asleep.

* * *

*About six days later*

"I think I see a light up ahead."

"That's what you said five minutes ago, Tadion."

"I really do see it this time, Erion!"

"Ever since we saw that one beam of light yesterday that _somehow_ managed to get past the treetops, you've claimed to have seen the end of the forest."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"WILL YOU TWO JUST PLEASE STOP BICKERING FOR ONE MINUTE!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Legolas didn't want to say anything, but he could also see the light. It was close, no more than thirty yards away. The two older boys suddenly raced ahead, Nelion right behind them. They ignored Lendir's cries to stop, causing everyone else to hurry forward so that they didn't lose sight of the elflings. Soon, they were all standing at the edge of the forest, squinting their eyes at the sudden brightness of the morning sun and breathing in the fresh air. Tadion turned to Erion, "I told you I saw it."

No one replied. Everyone was just simply enjoying the feeling of relief that came upon them. One leg of their journey was over, and the next one promised to be easier. The terrain was mostly flat and smooth, which would help speed the journey. If they hurried, they could cut off a few days from their trip.

Legolas walked behind the group until dusk. The boys still teased and fought each other, but it was much more bearable now that they could run around and release any pent-up energy. He also noticed that the girls talked a little louder now, but he had no idea what they were talking about. It was almost like trying to decipher a new language. Almost. Baimeldis would say, "So, did you see him?"

"He has amazing eyebrows!" one of her friends, an elleth with coal-black hair and blue eyes named Eldandil, practically shouted. Eldandil's sister, who had dark brown hair, similar blue eyes, and a name that eluded Legolas, chimed in, "Which guy?"

"The one in… in…," Eldandil stuttered, waving her hands in the air frantically while trying to remember where the elf was. Her sister's eyes widened, "Oh, that one?"

"Yes!" Eldandil and Baimeldis squealed happily. Eldandil's sister sighed and shook her head, smiling at her friends' foolishness, "It's all about the eyebrows."

"They were _perfect_!" Eldandil insisted. Legolas tuned out of the conversation at that point. Obviously, the girls were talking about some poor elf's facial hair, which must be very interesting to them but not to him. Instead, he watched the boys running around, competing with one another. Nelion shouted at his brothers, "I bet I can run the fastest!"

"No way! You're on!" Erion and Tadion shouted back. Thus, all three boys dashed forward, desperately trying to outdo the others. As Legolas watched, he pondered, _'The sun is getting pretty low. We must be close to the river by now. Then, we go south a little ways to the Carrock and cross the river there. Surely, we should be at the Misty Mountains in another week.'_

It was not long before Legolas could hear the roar of the river. He ran ahead to scout the terrain, but remained behind the boys, not wanting to discourage them by how easily he could overtake their pace. He jumped onto a nearby rock, getting a good vantage point, and looked ahead. He could not see the river, but he spotted the large, long dip in the earth that held it. Legolas turned back to the family to inform them of what he saw.

"Nelion!" one of the elflings screamed, his panicked voice rising over the sound of the river. Legolas wheeled around, expecting danger, but to his distress could not see the boys. Everyone else was in a similar state of worry. Tadion suddenly appeared from behind the embankment, screaming, "Nelion fell into the river! Nelion fell into the river!"

In an instant, Legolas and Lendir leaped down the embankment and stood beside the river, scanning the water for the young elf. Nothing broke the surface of the rushing current except for a few large, scattered rocks. Legolas could too easily imagine Nelion's small head hitting one of them and disappearing under the tide…

"Nelion! Hold on!" shouted a young voice farther downstream. The two elves' gazes snapped toward the sound and spotted Erion. The elfling was running beside the river, frantically pointing and shouting at the water. It took Legolas a few moments to realize that he was actually pointing to something clinging to a rock near the middle of the river and that that "something" was Nelion.

Lendir sprinted to the river, Legolas right behind him. Erion saw them and shouted, "Nelion is over there, holding onto that rock. It's all my fault! We need to save him! He is going to drown!"

"Shh, shh, it's ok. He will be fine. Go back to your mother," Legolas told him while Lendir looked for something to pull Nelion to safety with. Erion was about to protest, but Lendir turned and commanded harshly, "Go to Nana! Now!"

Erion fled to his mother, who was waiting anxiously on the bank with the horses, Tadion, and the girls. Legolas joined Lendir in searching for a large stick, or really anything long and sturdy, but there was nothing around. He chastised himself, _'Legolas, you fool, why didn't you bring a rope? You knew that you would need it! And look what happened. We cannot swim, and we have nothing to save him with. Never travel without a rope, you fool.'_

As he was looking for a stick long enough to reach the boy, Legolas heard a loud splash. He turned, but at first could not see anything. Then, a head popped out of the water a couple of feet behind Nelion. Legolas glanced around, trying to figure out who it was. The two remaining boys and their mother were still on the bank, and Eldandil was standing beside Lendir, intently watching the scene before her. The head belonged to Eldandil's sister. She grabbed a rock, positioned herself in front of it, and called out, "Nelion! Can you hear me?"

The boy could only nod. He was too busy trying to keep from drowning. Water rushed onto his face at random times, and his grip was beginning to slip. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his head was braced against the rock, which broke the swift current and helped to shield him against the waves. Legolas could see that he was not going to hold on for much longer.

"Nelion, I need you to let go of the rock. I am right behind you. I will catch you," Eldandil's sister called again. Nelion risked a glance behind him and saw how far away she was. It was only a few feet, but to him it must seem like a few yards. The elfling stubbornly clung to the rock.

"Nelion, I need you to do this, ok? You must let go, got it?" Eldandil's sister tried to reassure him. It didn't seem to work very well. Lender called to his son, "Elhadril is right behind you. Do not worry, she _will_ catch you!"

"On the count of three," Elhadril said, "One… two… three!"

Nelion pushed away from the rock and into the current, thrashing frantically when no one immediately saved him. For a moment, Legolas panicked because Nelion had pushed a little too far to the left and was going to drift away from Elhadril. But Elhadril was ready. She pushed off her own rock and grabbed the boy, flipping them both onto their backs and letting him rest on her front. She turned their feet downstream so that they could bounce off of rocks and let the current pull them along. Everyone chased after them.

Even though they were steadily coming back towards the shore, Nelion was still far from calm. Legolas could see every wave, great or small, wash over the poor elfling's face and into his eyes, mouth, and nose. This did not go over well with the boy, especially because he could not get a decent amount of air without choking on water in the process. He coughed, when he could spare the oxygen, and stirred at the water frantically.

"Shh, calm down," Elhadril told him whenever she could. Legolas saw that she was not having an easier time that him, but at least she wasn't visibly terrified. She steered them towards the embankment, and eventually came upon a calmer part where she could swim to the shore with the young boy. Legolas stepped forward to help pull them out and get the water out of Nelion's lungs, but it seemed that everyone else had the same intention. Eldandil and Elhadril both ended up commanding everyone to step back and give the boy some space while he coughed up all the water. They said this with so much authority, that no one questioned their thoughts. Eldandil monitored him while Elhadril fetched some dry clothes.

It seemed to Legolas that the sisters had more than a little experience with this sort of thing. As he watched, he wondered where they came from, what their story was, and where they had been. He would have to ask them later.

The moment Eldandil said that he was ok, Nelion was bombarded with scoldings, hugs, and concern. The young elfling looked like he just wanted to be left alone, and Legolas soon understood why. Nelion was forced to report what had happened, and it was clear that he was embarrassed. His brothers had stopped just before the river, but he ran on, thinking that the water was not too deep. The river, of course, was deeper than it looked, and before Nelion realized what was going on he was whisked away by the strong rapid.

Legolas left the family to scold Nelion for his foolishness and decided to scout the area. The sun had almost fully set, so they would need to set up a camp soon. Immediately would be great, but that was a bit unrealistic considering what had just happened. It was going to be some time before they fully prepared a camp, although a fire would be very helpful in warming Nelion and Elhadril.

It didn't take long for him to spot a nice shallow dip in the earth that was protected by a few rocks. He went back to tell the others, and they agreed to call it a night. A fire was started, something Nelion and Elhadril seemed grateful for, and everyone's stomachs were filled with some nice vegetables and some meat. And bread. You cannot forget the bread. Elhadril seemed to have packed five loaves…

Legolas was on watch duty, again. It occurred to him that if he kept doing this every other night, he would eventually run out of energy. But he could not help it tonight. They still had a couple of weeks, at most, until they reached Rivendell. Between the elflings' constant bickering, the adults' silence, and the girls' impossible-to-follow chats, Legolas was quite ready to get there. He just hoped that nothing else happened.

* * *

*thirteen days later*

Nothing interesting had happened the past couple of weeks. At all. Legolas was silently bored out of his mind. The most exciting thing that had happened was the unexpected rainstorm two days into their hike up the Misty Mountains. Well, that and the one time Elhadril almost walked right off a cliff. She had been very, _very_ lost in thought and had not noticed the sudden bend in the path. Nelion, of all people, was the one to save her, so they had called it even after that.

Even though the Misty Mountains were behind him, Legolas was ready for the trip to be over. The adults' moods had plummeted because the boys didn't ever know when to stop, making them unusually snappy, the girls never ran out of topics (although most seemed to revolve around eyebrows), he was tired from keeping watch, _and_ the horses kept him up at night whenever he _could_ sleep. Plus, his hair was… never mind. It was still perfect.

The funny thing was that, being elves, they didn't look tired. Any other race would look absolutely terrible, and feel even worse, but they looked almost exactly like they had when they started. Legolas was thankful for this, because he certainly didn't want to go to Rivendell looking like a disheveled mess. His father would not approve, though he would strangely find it endearing at the same time. Thranduil had grown both caring and cold, strict and kind, clingy and distant after Glawardes was lost. It pained Legolas to see it. His father had taken her loss hard. They both had, but Thranduil seemed ready to lose his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by an excited squeak from one of the boys, who were leading the party. This was followed by Erion shouting, "I see it! I see Rivendell!"

Needless to say, everyone's steps became considerably lighter as they quickly gathered at the top of the small rise that the boys were standing on. Legolas heard Baimeldis gasp. Being at the back of the group, behind even the horses, he could not see anything until the family moved. He did not complain, though. He had visited a few times before on other errands, so he knew the place well.

But as the family moved forward with a certain degree of giddiness, Legolas could not help but think that Imladris looked even more beautiful than he remembered it. He followed the family, momentarily happier than he had been in a very long time. He told himself, _'Maybe I will actually enjoy myself this time, instead of running from place to place like I usually do. Maybe I can experience peace, if just for the moment. Maybe I can forget about my problems for a little bit.'_

 _'_ _Don't kid yourself,'_ he thought, _'You will never forget.'_

* * *

 **There you go. So what did you guys think? Is it too hard to differentiate Eldandil and Elhadril? They will show up a few more times, so it should get easier, but I still worry. Oh well. I'm sure that my reviewers will tell me.**

 **Also, please don't kill me for letting Legolas fall into a thorn bush! I thought that it was funny!**

 **Thanks to _b_ _ettsam0731_ , _Guest_ , _Deductions-of-Sherlolly_ , and _DD_ for reviewing!**

 **To _Guest_ : I had always liked to think that she was still in Middle Earth. I mean, it could be possible that she just didn't like political affairs, or maybe her advice in those matters didn't matter, and in those cases she wouldn't need a throne. And considering that Legolas's age is never confirmed, I would say that anyone could make him _almost_ any age and still be correct. I mean, there are limits, but they aren't clearly defined. I will reread the first couple of chapters and try to make the dialogue more ****ancient, but no promises that I will do a good job. Thank you for your input. Haha, you weren't very subtle with your opinion of my OC. :) I am sorry that you don't like her, but not even elves are 100% perfect 100% of the time, and I had always pictured Mirkwood elleths as being at least a little tomboyish. But like you said, to each his own. I appreciate the feedback more than you know, but you do realize that you are basing all of this on the _first chapter_ , right? (I assume this because this site tells me which chapter you were on when you reviewed.) Anyway, I am glad that you reviewed, sorry that you didn't like Glawardes, and hope that you will continue reading and find the rest to be a lot better.**

 **To _DD_ : Well, here's some more! Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Until next time, guys! Thanks for reading this far!**


	5. Chapter 5: Prank Wars

**Disclaimer: Do I _really_ have to do this each chapter? I. Own. Nothing.**

* * *

Legolas was going to stay in Rivendell for three weeks. That was the appointed amount of time that Eldandil and Elhadril were going to stay, and he was supposed to journey with them since they were still under his father's rule. He was happy about that. Rivendell had some sort of calming effect on its residents, and Legolas needed to relax. Running around every day to search for his mother or to fight invading spiders isn't exactly healthy.

Today was the third day since they had arrived. Lendir's family had settled down in their new home, which was ironically close to the edge of the cliff and the river below. Let's just say that the boys were not permitted to play there. That seemed fine to them, until they were also banned from the smithies, the stables, the fountain, the library, the training yard, Lord Elrond's home (don't ask), every shop in the city, and the streets. And Legolas had thought that they were energetic on the trip.

The young boys were not bored, however, because Eldandil and Elhadril often helped them find things to play with. Baimeldis seemed to be busy most of the time, so the sisters spent a lot of time with the boys. The "calming effect" seemed to affect them differently. They became more childish and outgoing, even Elhadril, who seemed more introverted than her sister. They were also getting slightly troublesome, but Legolas wasn't going to worry about that. They couldn't cause too much harm. Not like Elrond's sons.

Today, Legolas was going to have a relaxing horseback ride through the surrounding forest. Rivendell was not helping to subdue his restlessness. He wanted to find his mother. That was all he had really been doing since she disappeared. But he knew that there were no clues of her whereabouts near Rivendell because Thranduil had sent letters to every elven city, asking them to look for her. Obviously, that method turned up blank. Perhaps a ride through the forest would help banish his worries.

He entered the stables and chose a brown stallion. Yes, stallions were wild and needed constant attention to keep them focused, but he needed to keep his mind off his mother. Legolas mounted the horse and directed him with a few simple phrases, and soon they were in the peaceful woods. The scenery was absolutely stunning. His mind was definitely kept busy with controlling the horse and watching the birds and squirrels dancing through the trees. It amazed him how different these woods were from Mirkwood.

He was almost back in Rivendell, being satisfied that he had ridden enough for one day, when something caught his eye. Legolas dismounted the horse and tied him to a nearby tree so that he wouldn't wander off. Then, he walked over to investigate.

What had caught his attention was an elvish sword sticking out of the ground with a letter attached to the hilt. It was about ten feet away from the path. Legolas hadn't seen it when he had passed this way just half an hour before. He wondered why someone would stick a perfectly good sword in the ground and leave it there. It wasn't like Rivendell was far away. Legolas could see it through the trees. It wasn't far away at all.

 _'_ _Maybe one of the twins is pranking someone by leaving their sword in the forest,'_ Legolas mused. It was probably Glorfindel's sword. Legolas contemplated about whether he should take it to the warrior or leave it. If he took it, then he would be liable to a prank himself. But the right thing to do would be to help Glorfindel. Unsure, he picked up the letter. It was folded into thirds and sealed, which meant that someone must have spent a lot of time on it. It read:

Dear Glorfindel,

We hope you have enjoyed our little game. We are disappointed that it

is over. If you would like another one, give us more lessons tomorrow

when we would rather do something else. We dare you.

Legolas took pity on the elf. Glorfindel must be running around Rivendell on a wild goose chase, looking for written clues in impossible places. Legolas grabbed the sword and pulled it out, determined to give it to him.

Suddenly, cold water landed heavily on his shoulders. His eyes widened in shock. The water was _freezing._ And now he was soaked. Legolas looked up and saw an empty bucket dangling from the branches above him. Now, he was furious. Whoever did this - which was most likely the twins - was in for it.

Legolas untied the horse and led him back to Rivendell, still angry at what had been done. He didn't want to get the horse wet when he could walk, and walking would allow more time for him to dry. But he was still drenched by the time they got back, which wasn't surprising considering how close they were.

"Hello, Prince Legolas," Eldandil greeted him as soon as he exited the stables. Her smile faltered when she saw his condition, then struggled to stay down when she realized what had happened. He gave an exasperated sigh and said, "Don't ask."

At that precise time, Elhadril came running up behind her sister. She greeted both of them and was about to say something when she noticed that Legolas was sopping wet, and instead asked, "What happened?"

"Elladan and Elrohir," he answered. "Do you know where to find them?"

"They are in the training yard, being interrogated by Glorfindel," she replied helpfully. "Apparently, the twins stole his sword. Is that it?"

Legolas looked at the sword he was still holding and nodded. Without another word, he set off at a brisk pace to the training yard.

As he entered the yard, Legolas saw two dark haired elves being questioned by a blond haired one. One of the dark haired ones looked over at him and pointed, saying, "There it is!"

Glorfindel turned and immediately asked, in a calm voice, "Where did you find it?"

"In the woods under a bucket of cold water," Legolas replied tensely, handing the sword to its owner. Glorfindel saw that he was soaked and apologized, "I'm sorry you got caught up in this. Elladan and Elrohir have been up to no good all day."

"We are right here!" Elladan exclaimed indignantly. Elrohir protested at the same time, "We are innocent! We have no idea what is going on!"

Legolas relayed to them the contents of the letter, which very clearly made the twins look guilty. Glorfindel glared at Elrond's sons, "Fine! We _will_ train extra tomorrow, since you seem to enjoy it so much."

"We promise that we are innocent! Someone framed us!" Elladan insisted in alarm. It was obvious that extra practice was not a very popular activity. Glorfindel was about to respond when a piece of paper crumbled around a rock fell into the clearing. Legolas let Glorfindel retrieve it, having had enough mysterious letters for one day. He watched the warrior carefully unravel the paper and read aloud, "The twins are innocent. I did it. You will never find me."

Legolas looked around the yard and at the buildings surrounding it, but could see no one. Glorfindel finished reading, "To the twins: this is payback for last time. You are lucky that we showed mercy. And, um, he or she drew a smiley face on the paper."

"I think someone owes us an apology," Elladan said smugly. Glorfindel's face reddened with embarrassment, much to Elladan and Elrohir's enjoyment. The elf grudgingly apologized, "I am sincerely sorry that I accused you of your usual habits and tricks."

"That sounds about ri- HEY!" Elrohir exclaimed, realizing that he had just accused them of causing mischief on a regular basis. Glorfindel and Legolas fought to hide their smiles. Elladan saw this and asked, "Are you _laughing_?"

"Well, I must be going now," Legolas hurriedly said as he left. There were many things in Middle Earth that were not to be trifled with, and Elrond's sons were one of them. Still, he wondered who had done this and what they were going to do next.

* * *

That question was answered about a week later. Legolas was going to ask Lord Elrond if he could search for his mother in the trollshaws until it was time to go back to Mirkwood. He was walking along the street, admiring the architecture as he went, when he heard some angry shouting coming from the library. Curious, he decided to see what the commotion was about.

As he was about to walk in, two figures burst through the door, almost knocking him over. The first one started to apologize profusely while the second one placed a nearby bench outside the door, barricading it. It took him a minute to recognize the figures as Eldandil and Elhadril.

Elhadril, who had been barricading the door, tapped her sister's shoulder and said, "We need to go!"

"WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" someone shouted in the library. Both girls' faces paled. They ran around the building to the back, throwing one last "We're sorry" over their shoulders. Legolas thought that their choice of a hiding spot was either brilliant or absolutely terrible, and quite possibly both. He understood their urgency, though, when someone tried to open the door.

"Legolas! Help me open the door!" the elf commanded. It was Erestor, Elrond's chief councilor. Legolas removed the bench, wondering, _'What did they do to him?'_

Erestor looked furious, and he smelled like eggs. His hair looked unusually shiny, like he had taken a bath and forgotten to dry it. But that wasn't possible because his hair was streaked with yellow. It was clear that the elf had had a bucket of eggs dumped on him. He didn't wait for Legolas to ask and demanded, "Which way did Eldandil and Elhadril go?"

"That way," Legolas lied, pointing down the street towards Elrond's house, choosing to side with the girls. Erestor stormed off, fuming. Once the elf was out of sight, Legolas quickly joined the girls on the small walkway behind the library. Bright smiles were on their faces, which they desperately tried to tame. Their attempts were futile and, as soon as they saw Legolas, they burst into laughter and collapsed on the ground.

"Did you see his face?" Elhadril asked between each fitful laugh. Eldandil nodded, "It. Was. Priceless."

"What did you do to him?" Legolas demanded, more out of curiosity than sternness. The girls grasped their sides and took deep breaths in an attempt to stop laughing, but as soon as one got their giggles under control the other would start again, meaning that it was a very long time before they could answer, "We replaced every quill pen in the library with regular feathers. He couldn't figure out why the pens weren't working! You should have seen it."

And with that, they started laughing again. But their explanation didn't make any sense. Erestor was covered in eggs, and pens seemed like the least of his problems. So who did that to him?

"We have no idea. We certainly wouldn't do that. It's too messy. And mean," Eldandil insisted after Legolas had interrogated them. Elhadril nodded in agreement before standing up suddenly, "I know! It must be Elladan and Elrohir. They are the only other ones who would prank someone, and Erestor seems to be their favorite victim."

"So, Elladan and Elrohir are the only other ones who would prank someone? Are you sure?" Legolas asked, thinking back to the sword-water bucket-note prank. Eldandil nodded, "Yes. It's only us and them."

As soon as she said that, Elhadril shot her a warning glare. Her sister stared back at her, puzzled, until Legolas smiled triumphantly and said, "So, _you_ are the ones that pranked me, Glorfindel, and the twins."

"We didn't mean to get you! Honestly, we didn't! We just wanted to get the twins and Glorfindel," Eldandil said, raising her hands in surrender. Legolas continued to give them a suspicious look until Elhadril reasoned, "We made it clear on the letter that we wanted Glorfindel, not you. It was your own fault for removing the sword. And any elf could have come along, not just you. Then _they_ might have gotten the prank."

The logic was sound, so Legolas accepted it, though he was still mad about the whole thing. It had been fairly humiliating to have to walk around Rivendell drenched from head to toe. And they had even pretended not to know what had happened!

"Wait, so Erestor really did have egg-goop all over him?" Elhadril asked.

"Didn't you see him?" Legolas countered. Eldandil shook her head, "No, we didn't. We were waiting beside the door next to all of the pens we had replaced so that when he finally gave up on finding a working pen and went to borrow one from someone else, we would see him. All we heard was a scream and some shouting, maybe a few choice words intermingled in his frustration. But we did see his face when he saw us from the stairs. It was pretty funny."

The story made sense, and Legolas knew that Erestor needed to hear it if the sisters were going to continue to have a comfortable stay. Lord Elrond wouldn't do anything to them, but Erestor might get a bit uncharacteristically vengeful. The last time that had happened, Elladan and Elrohir had been forced to clean every nook and cranny in Rivendell, which is not a quick chore. Or a fun one.

"We should probably go tell him that we didn't do it," Elhadril suggested, sharing his thoughts. Legolas helped Eldandil stand up, and the trio made their way to Lord Elrond's house. Some conversation was made, like the usual "So, how are you doing?" or "I haven't seen you for five days. Are you enjoying yourself?". No attempt made it very far, so the short journey was mainly elapsed in silence.

Legolas noticed that both girls were wearing dresses instead of their regular Mirkwood attire: a green tunic, brown leggings, and knee-length boots. Their dresses were identical in design, with different colors. Eldandil's dress was a light purple, while her sister's was a dark blue. It was strange to see them this way. They almost looked like any other elleth that had no need for swords or bows.

Another thing that had changed was the style of their hair. It was impractical in Mirkwood to wear intricate braids, so elves would usually only have one or two to keep their long hair out of their faces. In Rivendell, though, life was not so troublesome. Eldandil's black hair was braided in about five different ways, like some other elleths' hair he had seen. It was beautiful and very, very elaborate. Elhadril's hair, however, was left untouched. Her brown hair blew in every which way the wind wanted it to, which seemed to make her happy. Not a single braid restrained it. Legolas mentally noted that the two sisters were, in some ways, complete opposites.

They arrived at Lord Elrond's house and instinctively went to his study, which kind of surprised Legolas. He wondered if it was a bad sign that they all knew exactly where to go. Well, he supposed it wasn't a _good_ sign, but whatever. Nothing could be done about it now.

Erestor was already in there with Lord Elrond and the twins, who were skillfully holding back their amusement at seeing their father's advisor covered in slimy egg white and yolk. Erestor was heatedly complaining to Elrond about Eldandil and Elhadril, not realizing that the two girls were standing at the doorway in front of Legolas. Upon seeing the sisters' frowning faces, Elladan and Elrohir lost some of their self-control and began snickering uncontrollably, losing their good posture.

"What?" Erestor asked them, cross. Elladan's eyes flickered from Erestor to the doorway and back, giving away their presence. Erestor turned around, confusion written on his features. He spotted the sisters and blushed, ashamed that he had been caught talking about them. Then he remembered why he had been talking about them and quickly changed his surprise to anger. He seethed, "I cannot believe that such polite elleths would dump a bucket of eggs on me."

"Good, because we didn't," Elhadril said matter-of-factly. Erestor stared at her skeptically and asked in a tone that mimicked his expression, "Then who did?"

Elhadril and Eldandil glared at the twins. Elrond, who had been silent until now, asked his sons, "Did you really prank Erestor? _Again_?"

"Actually," Elrohir corrected, "it was Elladan this time. I had no part in it."

"Sure," Elladan replied sarcastically. "It's not like you acted as lookout or anything."

Poor Lord Elrond just rested his head on his hand as his sons continued to bicker. Erestor joined in the argument, still mad at the whole ordeal. Eldandil and Elhadril quietly slipped into the room, tired of standing to the side, and stood to Elrond's left, just in front of his desk. Legolas was left to watch it all play out from the doorway, not getting involved. He would probably have left by now, but he had remembered what he was going to ask Elrond, so he decided to stay.

"That's enough!" Elrond shouted eventually. Immediately, the argument died, silence reigning in the study. Lord Elrond looked up slowly from his hand and ordered his sons with a deadly calm, "Apologize to Erestor. Now."

The twins hurriedly apologized for dumping eggs on the councilor, but Erestor was not satisfied. He demanded that they also apologize for hiding his pens. Eldandil and Elhadril could contain themselves no longer, and started to giggle quietly. Legolas sighed to himself. He felt like he had just seen this happen a moment ago, but with the roles reversed.

"Um, they didn't do that, Lord Elrond," Eldandil confessed quickly. "We did."

Upon seeing the looks that that earned them, Elhadril explained, "We were standing by the door with the regular quill pens. We weren't going to make you go into to much trouble to find one, unlike _some_ people."

"Are you still mad about that?" Elladan asked her.

"I was thirty years old, Elladan! Thirty!" Eldandil exclaimed, turning on Elrond's son. Both elves were now attempting to stare each other down while their siblings vainly tried to keep it under control. Legolas mused, _'Well, they have some unpleasant history. Yet another thing I should ask about later.'_

"Well," Elrond said, breaking the tension, "Erestor, you are dismissed. I will handle this."

Erestor nodded, bowed to Lord Elrond, and left to clean himself up, probably satisfied that everyone would get suitable punishments. Lord Elrond waited until Erestor was out of earshot, which was quite a long way since he was an elf, and reprimanded, "Elladan and Elrohir, you are both grounded. Don't argue! You are to help Erestor organize and clean the library tomorrow. I expect good behavior; he will be reporting to me your actions. Go to your rooms and think about what you have done!"

Elladan and Elrohir scrambled out of the room, eager to evade their father's wrath. Lord Elrond then turned his stern gaze towards the girls, "As for you two, Lady Eldandil and Lady Elhadril, I cannot punish those not under my authority. However, I would like for you to play at the Hall of Fire tomorrow evening. Does that sound like a suitable punishment, Prince Legolas?"

Legolas nodded, not wanting to argue with the wise elf lord, even though he knew that that was no punishment. To play in the Hall of Fire was an honor, for that was were all the Rivendell elves socialized after dinner. To be honest, Legolas wanted to hear them play. He hadn't known that they could. Entertainment wasn't a huge part of Mirkwood's day-to-day affairs, although every now and then Thranduil would randomly throw a huge party.

Dismissed, the girls left Elrond's study. They were the last ones to leave, apart from Legolas and Elrond himself, because everyone else had left as soon as Lord Elrond had stopped talking to them. Elrond then turned to Legolas and commented, "Well, that was interesting."

"It certainly was. So much seems to have happened over the last ten days." Legolas responded politely, mentally adding, _'And we still have another eleven before we go home.'_

"What troubles you?" Lord Elrond asked, obviously seeing through the prince's facade. Legolas paused and took a deep breath before admitting, with all seriousness, "I wish to look for my mother."

* * *

 **I hope that you all liked this one. I had fun coming up with the pranks. How are my OC's coming along? Any complaints/suggestions?**

 **Also, thanks to _dorishazel_ and _somersset_ for reviewing! Also, on a random note, my last chapter has more views then the two before it. Isn't that weird? It must have been good, then. :)**

 **To _dorishazel_ : I am glad that you, liked it. Clearly, I am not stopping yet. I actually have everything planned out until the twelfth chapter. But I am going to make you wait for that. *starts laughing evilly***

 **Well, thank you all for reading this far. It means a lot. Until next time!**


	6. Chapter 6: Last Days in Rivendell

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for Glawardes. And Elhadril and Eldandil. And Lendir's family... So I actually own a lot, just nothing that belongs to Tolkien. Huh.**

 **EDIT: new disclaimer on chapter 11.**

* * *

Legolas entered the Hall of Fire and leaned against a wall, still angry from Elrond's advice yesterday. The Lord of Imladris had, more or less, explained that it would be fruitless to search for Glawardes and that if Legolas and his father continued to search for her they were likely to both succumb to broken hearts and either sail away to Valinor or die from grief. Of course, Lord Elrond had said this in a nicer, less direct fashion, but that was what it had watered down to.

 _'_ _How dare Lord Elrond even_ think _that we would stop searching for her!'_ Legolas thought bitterly, _'She is not lost forever. We_ will _find her. Does he not want us to? Surely he wants Ada and me to be happily reunited with her. Right?'_

To be honest, Legolas didn't know why he even bothered to show up for dinner. Lord Elrond had insulted him, and he obviously had no intention of apologizing, although he did not entirely forsake conversation. Whenever the Lord of Imladris would try to ask him something or have a friendly chat, Legolas would only utter a few short sentences before cooly brushing him off and giving him the cold shoulder. He knew very well that princes didn't act that way, but he didn't care. Elrond had started it.

It had been a very awkward dinner. For everyone.

But now that dinner was over, the entertainment would begin. Despite being angry at Lord Elrond, Legolas was still curious to hear Eldandil and Elhadril preform. He wondered how good they were and how often they played. Apparently, they were very good, if Lord Elrond himself asked them to preform. How did _he_ know about their talents, but not Thranduil? Or maybe Thranduil did know, but he didn't tell Legolas.

Legolas stopped going through possibilities when the girls emerged with a flute and some type of circular horn. Some of the conversation being exchanged by the elves around Legolas died down or stopped completely as they entered and sat close to the center of the room. A small crowd gathered around them, but Legolas stayed near the back just in case getting any closer would make them nervous.

The sisters had seemed slightly scared at first, especially Eldandil, but they relaxed quite a bit once they sat down. Legolas guessed that this was because Lord Elrond was talking to a couple of elves in a corner of the room, far away from where they were preforming. The girls exchanged a few words that Legolas didn't catch, causing some of the elves to get impatient when they laughed at an inside joke. After all, they were here to entertain other elves, not themselves.

Then, Eldandil sat up straight and held the flute to her mouth, and Elhadril did the same with the horn. The horn began first, playing long, powerful, low notes that rose and fell, creating a noble feel. Then, the flute joined, playing a different, lighter melody that danced on top of the horn's, but didn't sound like a totally different song. Both tunes blended together to create the image of a victorious battle, at least in Legolas's mind. The resulting music was something completely different than anything Legolas had ever heard. Which isn't actually saying much. Thranduil might randomly hold feasts and parties, but there was never a wide range of musical instruments or music in general. Most of it was sung.

It soon proved difficult to hear the sisters, because there were other small performances and many conversations going on all around the rather large room. He moved closer, which helped tremendously until their volume dropped suddenly for musical effect, leaving Legolas listening to the various conversations again.

Those conversations were getting annoying.

No matter how hard he tried, Legolas could only hear a few snippets of their music, and before he knew it, they had finished. The other elves applauded heartily and demanded an encore. Legolas clapped with them, wondering how they had managed to hear the whole thing.

"Do you want to play another?" Elhadril asked Eldandil.

"Sure!" she replied enthusiastically, much to the crowd's delight. They started another tune. This one was light and cheerful and, unlike the last one where the flute had the melody, allowed both instruments to work equally. Indeed, the image created by the song seemed to be two young children playing together in the woods. It was heartwarming to listen to.

Needless to say, the crowd was disappointed when that tune came to an end, and even more dissatisfied when the sisters announced that that was all they could do. One elf objected, "You have played for us many times before, so why have you suddenly run out of music?"

"Because, Lindir, we have not played in half a century. You try memorizing music for that long without practice," Eldandil answered. Her sister giggled joyfully, "Ooh, tell him, Eldandil!"

"You don't play in Mirkwood?" another elf asked incredulously. The girls seemed less willing to answer that and instead greeted her, "Baimeldis! How are you doing? We haven't seen you since we arrived."

The three girls began talking among themselves, still holding the instruments. The crowd dispersed to find other entertainment, since they were obviously not going to play again for some time. Legolas swallowed his own disappointment and went back to leaning against the wall, deep in thought. How many times have Eldandil and Elhadril been to Rivendell? How many times have they played? How did they even know how to play? Why have they been here before in the first place?

Legolas wanted some answers to sooth his growing curiosity, and he was going to get them.

* * *

A few days passed before Legolas saw the girls again. He was on his way back to Rivendell from another calming ride through the forest (he seemed to be needing lots of those lately) when a small scream caught his attention. This was followed by a lot of shouting, so Legolas immediately tied his horse to a nearby tree and ran farther into the woods to see what the problem was, fearing an orc attack.

His pace, as well as his racing heart, quickened when he identified the voices to be Eldandil, Elhadril, Erion, Nelion, and Tadion. They must have been playing in the woods and had not been paying attention to their surroundings, leading to an ambush. He ran faster still when Elhadril screamed in panic, "Climb up the tree! Hurry!"

A younger voice, probably Erion's, yelled back, "That's no fair! The branches are too high!"

"Yeah," Tadion agreed. "But you will have to come down sooner or later!"

 _'Wait, what's happening? Are they in trouble or not?'_ Legolas wondered, slowing down a bit. He listened closely and heard Nelion call happily, "We're going to get you!"

"No you won't!" Eldandil's teasing voice spoke up. Legolas stopped and tried to slow his heartbeat. They were not in danger, if their words were any indication. The screams and shouts he had heard were caused by sheer joy, not terror. Relieved and convinced that there was no danger, Legolas considered going back. But his curiosity got the best of him. Again.

 _'_ _There better not be any water buckets this time,'_ Legolas mused as he continued towards the sounds of laughter and merriment. He soon came to a large clearing filled with all types of wildflowers. It was more like a small meadow surrounded by trees. There was a large oak with no low branches in the middle of the clearing, and on that oak sat two figures. One was climbing higher, while the other waved a stick in the air and yelled at three smaller figures below, "You can't get us from up here! You can't climb as well as us yet, and you are not as patient. We will outlast you!"

"Aww! That's not _fair_!" one of the smaller figures, whom Legolas guessed was Nelion, complained. Elhadril smiled down at them, "Too bad. Think! Use your brains!"

The boys grumbled, but quickly huddled up a good distance away from the oak, close to the surrounding trees. Legolas, concealed in the underbrush, moved closer to listen to their plan.

"Our only option is to climb the tree," Erion insisted. Nelion shook his head, "Not really. We could lure them down."

"How?"

"We could pretend to give up and ambush them on their way back," Tadion offered.

"No, they would see it coming. It's too risky. We _could_ charge at the tree, and then one of us pretends to trip and get hurt."

"That's a little wrong, though," Nelion deemed. "We could go back to Rivendell for help. I know for a fact that Elrohir and Elladan would be more than happy to get them down."

"You know that they would never forgive us for getting Elrond's sons involved! And besides, that's cowardly. We need to do this ourselves."

"But we need help, Erion," Nelion pressed, "We can't catch two adults in a tree on our own, let alone drag them back to our base."

 _'_ _So that's what they're playing,'_ Legolas thought to himself, listening closely. The boys had to catch the girls and drag them back to their "base."

Tadion piped up, "This has been rigged from the start. We _could_ just quit. We _should_ quit."

"We would never be able to live it down. There has _got_ to be a way to get them down," Erion argued. Before he knew what he was doing, Legolas stepped out from his hiding place. Immediately, he regretted it. But before he could turn back, the boys had him surrounded. Nelion spoke first, his voice betraying his excitement, "Prince Legolas, will you _please_ play with us? We need help!"

"Yeah, Prince Legolas, _please_ help us!" the others chorused. Legolas hadn't really been wanting to get caught up in playing with them. It had been a long time since he had played any games: 1,930 years, to be exact. He wasn't even sure if he was capable of having fun anymore, and he certainly didn't want to ruin any games that they were playing.

"Uh, what are we playing?" Legolas asked before he could stop himself. The boys beamed, taking his question as an answer. Legolas was pulled to his knees and quickly told a rough outline of actions similar to a plan. It was simple: chase the girls down the tree and drag them to the boys' previously assigned base, which was a pile of rocks on the edge of the clearing.

Ok, not too difficult.

Legolas quickly walked to the oak and started to climb, jumping to grab the lowest branches, while the other boys surrounded the tree. As soon as he started to climb, however, something hard hit his head. His hand flew to the impact point, and he looked up sharply to find Eldandil smiling mischievously back down at him. Elhadril handed her an acorn and praised, "Nice aim."

"Thanks," Eldandil replied, throwing the acorn. Legolas leaned to the left, dodging the nut with ease and still clinging to the tree. Eldandil frowned, "Aw, I missed."

"That's ok. You'll get him this time," Elhadril encouraged, handing her three more acorns. Legolas dodged these with a bit more difficulty. He pulled himself onto the branch he had been hanging from and teased, "You will have to do better than that."

He looked up, expecting to see the sisters, but they weren't there. He could hear them talking farther up the tree. Eldandil was asking, "That's Legolas, isn't it?"

"You mean, you didn't recognize him?"

"I wasn't paying close attention! That is him, right?"

"Yes."

"We're dead."

"Not necessarily. Follow me."

Now Legolas could see them creeping through the branches together. They were about twenty-five feet in front of him and five feet above, a distance that Legolas could easily cover in just a few seconds. But he was supposed to get them off the tree, not catch them, so he was going to have to somehow corral both of them down on his own. He wasn't going to be able to do that, but maybe if he focused on them one at a time then it would be possible. There was a lower branch separated from the rest that would help force them down. The trick would be getting them on it.

A plan formed in his mind, causing Legolas to smirk, _'They'll see just how dead they really are. Wow, that sounded bad.'_

In a few short seconds, Legolas had run to the branch under the sisters, grabbed their branch, and swung himself onto it, landing neatly in front of them. The sisters stopped abruptly in their tracks, momentarily a bit stunned. Then Elhadril shouted, "Split up!"

Eldandil had already started running by the time her sister had finished the command, but Legolas ignored her. Elhadril seemed to be the slower of the two, and therefore was the easier to control. Plus, she was already fairly close to the lower branch.

 _'This won't be so hard.'_

Famous last words. It was indeed easy to isolate Elhadril on the branch, but in all the excitement he had forgotten about her sister. He was just figuring out how to get Elhadril down when something hard hit his head. Again.

"OW! Stop doing that!" Legolas exclaimed, looking up just in time to see Eldandil chuck three or four more acorns at him. He was caught unprepared, so some (all) of them found their mark. The branch under him swayed, and he turned back to Elhadril just in time to see her running above some other branches, screaming, "You'll never catch me alive!"

 _'_ _Seriously? I just had her!'_ Legolas sighed in frustration, shaking his head. He chased after Elhadril, sometimes being pelted by acorns when he was focused too much on his target, who was zig-zagging her way to the top of the oak. How could Eldandil aim this well? He was jumping from one branch to another in a random order, yet hardly any (none) seemed to miss. It was getting rather irritating.

Eventually, Elhadril ran out of tree. She was perched on the topmost branches, the ones small birds liked to sit on. If she wasn't an elf, the twig would have long ago cracked under her weight. Even so, there was a limit, and Legolas wasn't about to cross it. He stopped a few feet away and watched Elhadril balance on the thin wood with concern. That branch could snap at any moment, and there weren't that many branches below her. It would be all too easy for Elhadril to fall, even being an elf, and a fall like that was going to hurt.

Elhadril glanced down, suddenly understanding the situation she was in, before meeting his gaze, a terrorized, slightly hysterical look in her eye as she nervously requested, "Please back up."

Legolas hurriedly did as he was told, moving to another branch farther down the tree to allow Elhadril to carefully make her way back onto the thicker branches. Eldandil, upon hearing her sister so scared and in danger, had stopped the acorn attack and joined Legolas in watching Elhadril's balancing act, occasionally offering encouragement. The sisters gave each other a quick hug once Elhadril was safe (and almost in tears) before declaring, "We should get down. No more hiding in trees."

"Agreed."

"In fact, we should probably just stop playing. It's getting dark."

"Oh," Legolas replied quietly, following the girls down, disappointed. He had been having fun, even if the game wasn't as exciting as it was intended to be. It was disappointing to have it end. He gave himself a mental slap, _'What is wrong with you? You haven't acted like this since Nana disappeared. You are the Prince of Mirkwood; you do not act like a little boy. You do not play games.'_

 _'_ _Oh, great. Now I sound like Ada,'_ Legolas sighed, remembering his father's behavior after Glawardes went missing. Thranduil had slowly grown more and more serious and grim, and had wanted Legolas to do the same. Legolas was fairly certain that his father was still experiencing the grief of losing his wife. How he had survived this long, Legolas had no idea. Thranduil wasn't going to last much longer, though.

When they reached the bottom of the oak, Elhadril, Eldandil, and Legolas found that the boys had gotten bored and had resorted to a simple game of tag. Eldandil clapped her hands and called, "It's getting dark. We need to head back soon."

"Awww! Ok," the boys called back, somewhat reluctantly. In just a few (like, maybe ten) minutes, everyone was back in Rivendell. Legolas had, thankfully, remembered his horse and had just put him back in his stall when Elhadril walked in and greeted, "Hello again. We aren't needed anymore because Lendir's family settled in faster than we expected, so we can leave whenever."

"How about tomorrow?" Legolas asked. Elhadril looked a bit shocked, but the expression quickly vanished. She replied dutifully, "Whenever you wish. But you should probably apologize to Lord Elrond before we leave."

"I _did_ apologize to Lord Elrond," Legolas corrected coldly, wondering what had given her the right to interfere in the matter. It was not her place. And besides, he had thought that everyone had heard of their amends. Rivendell wasn't a small city, bit news travelled fast.

"Oh, sorry," Elhadril awkwardly apologized. In that one statement, her eyes both widened and narrowed, her body stiffened, and her gaze dropped to the floor. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable as she stood there for a few seconds, probably trying to figure out how to leave. She stiffly turned and hurried out the door after stammering, "Goodnight."

Legolas suddenly felt a stab of guilt for causing the awkward situation and was even more curious about the two sisters. They treated him more as a friend and less like their prince. They were clearly not used to formalities.

Why? They had to be about his age, and as far as he knew they had lived in Mirkwood for all their lives, so why did they not refer to him as "Prince Legolas" or some other title? Not that he was complaining. It made him feel… welcome, wanted, loved? He didn't know the right word.

 _'_ _I will ask them tomorrow about their heritage and childhood,'_ Legolas decided. As an afterthought, he added, _'I hope I don't sound intrusive.'_

* * *

 **Hello, everybody! Ok, I know that both this chapter and the 5th** **chapter probably don't seem to have a purpose, but they do. You will see eventually. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed them.**

 **Does anyone else love looking at that graph of viewers? I love watching it. For all of you visitors, there is a bar graph that tells you how many people read your story each day. Anyway, just curious, because I really appreciate that feature. Of course, I love numbers in general.**

 **Thanks to _DD_ for reviewing! You seem to have been the only one this week, so thank you!**

 **To _DD_ : Hello again. You will definitely be getting more Legolas, but you won't see him with his mother for a while, and it will be an even longer time ****before we see them all together. Sorry to disappoint you. And I know that these chapters probably weren't the most exiting, but I really needed to put them in there. I am glad that you still seem to be enjoying them, though! I shall definitely keep writing.**

 **I did not read over this chapter as much as I did the previous ones. Please point out any mistakes I may have made. Or, at the least, tell me that I did make a mistake and its general area. Thanks!**

 **Well, there you have it, everyone. The next chapters should be a lot more interesting. I hope you have a great day!**


	7. Chapter 7: Ambush

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Lord of the Rings. If I did, then I would be relaxing in my luxury cabin on some secluded mountain.**

* * *

Legolas woke up early the next morning and quickly packed all of his stuff. It was easy to pack, since he didn't actually bring a great number of things. He had mainly brought his bow and a couple of daggers, plus a few changes of clothes and some camping supplies. Nope, not many things at all.

He walked through the silent streets to the stable to get a horse. They were not going to ride back, but they were going to need an animal to carry their baggage. Probably a mare because of how reliable they were.

Legolas easily found a suitable mare and started saddling it. The mare was a beautiful bay with a black mane and a mild temperament. Even so, she shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the saddle. Elf-horses don't usually wear them, but it was going to make it a whole lot easier to carry everything. Legolas gave the horse a sympathetic look and murmured, "I'm sorry, but it has to be done."

"Yay! You got Tinnuroch!"

Legolas turned around to find Eldandil and Elhadril, both carrying various equipment and bags. He made a face and asked, "Did you really bring this much stuff?"

"No. Most of this is the food that Lord Elrond is giving us," Eldandil replied nonchalantly. Without another word, the sisters began tying their burdens to Tinnuroch. To his dismay, Legolas noticed that Elhadril was avoiding any and all eye contact, conversation, and general interaction with him beyond what was necessary. She clearly hadn't forgotten about her awkwardness last night. Or, at least, she hadn't forgotten that she had felt awkward. Legolas personally didn't know why she felt awkward. He just hoped that she would stop.

Eldandil, however, didn't seem awkward at all. In fact, she was just the opposite. Her personality was bubbly and happy and fun. Legolas was almost certain that she could have an enthralling conversation with a stone wall, which seemed completely different than her sister.

The girls chatted amongst themselves as they finished packing Tinnuroch and guided the mare out of the city. Legolas led the way through the surrounding forest, Eldandil walked behind him with Tinnuroch, and Elhadril guarded the back. After a few minutes of admiring the scenery, Elhadril spoke up, "Why are we walking again? Wouldn't it be faster to ride?"

"Because we have an extra week to get back, so we have plenty of time. We can go at our own pace," Legolas answered. That was only part of the truth. The main reason they were walking was because he still wanted to find out about the girls' past. The extra time that walking would give them is just in case he couldn't find a good time or way to ask them without feeling like he was intruding.

Elhadril evidently wasn't satisfied and pressed, "Won't your father be wanting us back?"

"I sent him a letter a few days ago to let him know that we may be a bit late," Legolas answered her again, happy that she was talking to him. The last thing he wanted was an awkward journey home.

Elhadril didn't voice any more questions, so Legolas searched his brain for a good conversation-starter. He didn't find any, so he was forced to let the opportunity be drowned in the ensuing silence. At least the birds seemed talkative.

"Hey, Elhadril, Legolas," Eldandil cheerfully prompted, not having a bit of trouble starting a conversation. Elhadril replied before Legolas had the chance, "What?"

"I spy with my elf eyes: something that is green."

 _'_ _Are they really going to play that?'_ Legolas wondered. He was answered by Elhadril guessing, "The trees?"

"No."

"The grass?"

"Nope."

"Uhh… The bushes?"

"No."

"Well how many more green things are in a forest? Is it Legolas's shirt?" Elhadril asked. Legolas looked down at his green shirt. Did Eldandil really spy it?

"Yes!"

"Ok, my turn. I spy with my elf eyes something brown," Elhadril said.

 _'_ _If they keep doing this, then I am going to go crazy,'_ Legolas stated. This went on for about five more minutes, and Legolas was positive by that time that they had named every object in the forest and packed on the horse. It was getting really boring.

"Legolas, you spy something," Eldandil said. Legolas sighed, "Haven't you had enough of this game?"

"A little, but you haven't gotten a turn yet," Elhadril insisted. Although he really didn't want to play, Legolas gave up trying to talk his way out of it and reluctantly said, "I spy something red."

"That fox!" Elhadril exclaimed. Legolas almost stopped in his tracks. She had gotten it right on her first try. Hesitantly, he confirmed, "That is correct."

"Whoo! Good job, girlie! I was going to guess a cardinal." Eldandil praised her sister before asking Legolas, "Do you want to go again?"

Legolas both did and didn't want to go again. On one hand, the game was getting old anyway, and he didn't want to lose like that a second time. On the other hand, losing that quickly had injured a bit of his pride. So, he answered, "Yes. I spy something black."

"The crow!" Eldandil answered him this time, accidentally scaring the bird off in her excitement. Legolas blinked in surprise. He had thought that that one would be harder. He acknowledged her correct guess and spied another object, which was also guessed easily, and a fourth object, which was guessed as quickly as the others.

And so, the game continued until lunch. Legolas refused to play that game ever again.

The sisters still talked to each other periodically for the remainder of the day, but Legolas was silent. There wasn't really anything that he could say to contribute to their conversation. Besides, something was bothering him. He didn't feel safe, like there was some sort evil ahead. Like they were walking into danger.

He shook off the feeling. It was probably nothing. Legolas glanced behind him, just to make sure that everyone was doing well. Eldandil and Tinnuroch were holding up alright, but Elhadril…

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked, stopping completely. Elhadril was reading a book and attempting to walk at the same time. She was so engrossed in the book that she did't hear Legolas and was only roused when Eldandil called, "Elhadril. Elhadril!"

"Hmm?" Elhadril asked, suddenly alert. Legolas opened his mouth to say something but instead dismissed it and replied, "Nothing."

They continued walking in silence. It was going to get dark soon, so Legolas kept a sharp eye out for a good place to rest for the night. Maybe he could hunt something here that they could eat for dinner. A fresh, warm meal sounded great.

Legolas thought he saw a nice clearing farther ahead. He turned around to report this to the girls and noticed that Elhadril was reading the book again and not watching where she was going. He tried to warn her, "Uh, Elhadr-"

 _Thud!_

"Ow," Elhadril commented after she had steadied herself, holding her forehead and glaring at the tree that she had run into. Legolas smiled at the scene, finding it funny, while Eldandil outright laughed, "Are you ok?"

Elhadril was laughing now, too, "Oops. I should probably put the book down."

"Probably," Eldandil agreed. Legolas shook his head, still smiling, and replied, "I think that there is a good campsite just up ahead, so you won't have to put it down too long."

The small clearing that Legolas had spotted did turn out to be a good place to set up camp. The clearing was well sheltered by the trees, and there were a couple of rocks off to the side, as well as a stream that ran about fifteen feet away. Though surrounded by trees, the clearing had very few roots sticking out of the ground, so sleeping was not going to be too troublesome and uncomfortable. Luck seemed to be on their side.

Night had fallen, but they didn't light a fire. Fire means light, and light means attention. They were far enough away from Rivendell to encounter orcs, and too far away to receive help. Legolas couldn't shake the feeling that something was stalking them, waiting to strike, but he could not see anything in the forest around them. Eventually, he shook it off. He was probably still used to Mirkwood, where everything stalked him. And he wasn't just referring to spiders.

"I'll take watch, you two sleep," Eldandil volunteered, standing. Elhadril also stood up and quickly protested, "You didn't sleep well last night. I'm going to take watch."

"I slept like a log. I'm on watch."

"No you did not sleep like a log, so you are not on watch. Plus, logs don't sleep, so sit down."

"Yes, I am."

"You're sitting?"

"What? No, I-"

"Sit," Elhadril commanded with a hard stare. Eldandil dutifully took a seat. Legolas wasn't sure whether to laugh or stay silent. The exchange was humorous, but he wasn't sure what mood Elhadril was in. She was sometimes difficult to read.

"Good," Elhadril continued. "Now you two can get a good night's sleep. Who wants the second half of the watch?"

"Me! I'll take it!" Eldandil not so much offered as demanded. Elhadril laughed, "Why did I even bother asking?"

Elhadril leaped onto a rock and prepared for watch duty while Eldandil got ready to sleep. It was then that Legolas remembered his curiosity about the girls' past. Despite the fact that everyone was tired, he summoned his courage and started, "I have a couple of questions that have been bothering me. Would you mind if I ask both of you now?"

"Sure. We don't mind, right, Elhadril?"

"Right. Ask away."

 _'_ _That was easier than I thought,'_ Legolas told himself. _'I thought that they wouldn't open up, yet here they are.'_

"Where did you learn to swim?" Legolas questioned. This was one of the first questions to plague him, ever since they had rescued Nelion. There weren't many places in Mirkwood suitable for swimming. There were two main rivers, one that would put you to sleep for a few weeks if you touch it and another that is too fast-flowing for beginners. They had to have learned somewhere else.

"Oh, well, our mother was from Rivendell, so we would travel there to visit family. With King Thranduil's permission, of course. That was where we learned to swim," Eldandil explained, sitting on her bedroll. Elhadril added, "That's also where Eldandil learned to heal, or at least the basics. Our mother was a friend of Lord Elrond's, though I can't say how close they were. He taught Eldandil."

"And you, too!" Eldandil protested, not wanting all the credit.

"No, I was reading in the library or exploring the woods, remember?" her sister corrected.

"No, I specifically remember you learning with me."

"No, I never took any lessons from Lord Elrond," Elhadril insisted. It took a few moments of convincing, but eventually Eldandil remembered and laughed, "Oh, oops! I thought that you were taking lessons with me. It must have been someone else."

"Must have been," Elhadril agreed before turning back to Legolas. "Ok, next question."

"How did your mother come to live in Mirkwood?" Legolas asked. It was a new question, but it was the first one to pop into his mind. Besides, he was genuinely curious. Rivendell elves didn't journey to Mirkwood very often, or really anywhere, for that matter.

"She had been kidnapped by orcs, and was among those that your father rescued from Gundabad. She was going to go back to Rivendell, but then she met our father. Obviously, they fell in love, he couldn't abandon his duties, she stayed with him, and they had us. We visited Rivendell every so often to catch up with family, maybe every half a century? Yes, that sounds about right," Elhadril briefly paraphrased. Eldandil teased her, "You left out all the good parts! Like how Ada would bring her niphredil flowers on her birthday, or how he would tend to her when she was unwell."

"…Sorry," Elhadril apologized after giving her sister a blank stare, bowing her head in mock defeat. Eldandil slightly panicked, or at least pretended to, "Oh, it's all right, girlie. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

At this, Elhadril began to panic, fearing that she had caused her sister to worry, "Oh, it's fine. You didn't hurt me. I'm alright."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm ok."

"Alright. If you say so," Eldandil gave Elhadril a slightly disbelieving look, but didn't press.

Legolas had watched the whole exchange, feeling a bit confused. The sisters' relationship was odd to him, and he didn't know how to handle it. He had no brothers or sisters, and therefore could not relate to that level of familiarity, though he would sometimes think about it. He didn't imagine siblings behaving like _this_ , though. Perhaps he was wrong.

 _'_ _Must be a girl thing,'_ he mused.

"Any more questions?" one of the sisters asked. Legolas was too lost in thought to figure out who.

"Um, yes. Where did you learn to play instruments? And how come you never play at our feasts?"

"Well," Eldandil started, "our mother wanted us to be women, not warriors, so she did everything she could to raise us that way. You can see how well that worked, but anyway, one of the things she taught us was how to play a musical instrument."

"And we never played at the parties because we didn't think we were… I mean we didn't… We don't like playing in front of... You're just going to have to be satisfied that we didn't," Elhadril added, finishing her sister's story. Legolas nodded, having figured as much. He fired another question, "What weapons do you have, and how good are you?"

"We both have a bow and a sword, and I'd say that we're pretty decent, wouldn't you?" Eldandil replied, consulting her sister. Elhadril agreed, "Enough to defend ourselves, anyway."

Legolas nodded and proceeded to ask his next question, "Where are your parents now? In Mirkwood?"

"Actually, no," Eldandil answered. Legolas thought that he heard a hint of sadness in her voice, but dismissed the thought as she continued, "They are in Rivendell. You see, our mother never felt comfortable in Mirkwood. She missed Rivendell, her home. The only reason she didn't go back was because of our father, but she didn't tell him that because she didn't want him to feel bad. Well, eventually he found out, so they both left Mirkwood and settled in Rivendell. We stayed because of our friends, and we were old enough to make our own choices."

"Actually, _you_ stayed for your friends," Elhadril corrected, "I didn't have that many, and indeed no good friends until we met Baimeldis. I stayed for you."

"Aww, Elhadril! That's so sweet! And I stayed for you, too."

"Sure you did," Elhadril teased her sister. The two continued to exchange sweet remarks and jests, forgetting all about Legolas. He didn't want to interrupt their happy little conversation, so he watched them silently, smiling whenever he understood a joke, which wasn't a lot. If he was being honest with himself, Legolas would say he felt excluded. Obviously, the sisters did not mean to do this, but Legolas was a prince. He was used to being the center of attention, or at least close to it. Especially around girls (though he was thankful that Eldandil and Elhadril weren't like that). This sudden change was strange to him.

Gradually, the girls' joking subsided enough for Legolas to ask Eldandil his final question without feeling like he was interrupting, "What's the story behind Elladan and you?"

"Ooooh," Elhadril smirked, throwing her sister a mischievous look. Legolas smiled in anticipation, knowing now that the story had to be good. Eldandil caught both of their grins, and her face started to turn red, "Don't you dare."

"Well, it all started when…," Elhadril began, her smile growing wider. Legolas watched as Eldandil began to panic, shouting, "No! Stop! Don't listen to her! She's gone mad!"

Legolas and Elhadril began to laugh at Eldandil's misfortune, which in all honesty wasn't the nicest thing to do, but the look on her face was priceless! Between bursts of giggling and Eldandil's pleading, Elhadril managed to continue, "… when we were about… about thirty years old… Eldandil… (at this part, Elhadril just about died from lack of oxygen because she was laughing so hard)… Eldandil had a crush on Elrohir! Elladan knew about it and he, heh heh, decided to prank her."

"If you don't stop, you will rue the day you were ever born! I will personally end you by ever so slightly poisoning your favorite berries, until I see death increasing through your veins! That is a promise I will keep until my very last breath in this world or another!" Eldandil threatened jokingly, trying to keep a straight face.

"I don't like berries," Elhadril pointed out, triumphantly smiling at her sister's mistake.

"Well, I'll force them down your throat!" Eldandil countered, a smile stubbornly clinging to her expression, and both girls ended up doubling over in another fit of laughter. Legolas laughed, too, but silently. The joy was contagious.

"Well," Elhadril went on after several deep breaths, "we were supposed to play for Lord Elrond and his family. Just before our performance, Elladan replaced Eldandil's flute with another that he had created to play really, really flat."

"It was our first performance, and Elladan ruined it!" Eldandil exclaimed. "It was horrible! The notes clashed all over the place, and it was impossible to tune! Plus, it had the fingerings all messed up! It was so embarrassing. And it was in front of Elrohir, too!"

Legolas chuckled at the story. Elhadril caught this and sarcastically teased, "Wow, thanks for the sympathy, Legolas. I'm sure Eldandil appreciates it."

He immediately closed his mouth and went back to silently listening, afraid that he had offended them. He never did have much experience with casually conversing with people, and didn't yet know quite how to do it gracefully. Yet another problem that came from searching for his mother day and night.

 _'_ _But I will never stop searching. She is still out there!'_ Legolas desperately reminded himself.

"Oh, umm, uh, that was a joke. Or at least an attempted one," Elhadril quietly stuttered, noticing Legolas's reaction and not meeting his eyes, like she was ashamed to have said what she did. Now Legolas felt foolish. Here he was, so socially inept that he mistook a jest for a complaint. And now he had probably complicated his friendship with them. He didn't even know how all of that worked!

"We were so mad, but we got him back," Eldandil remarked, quickly getting back to the point and drawing attention away from Legolas's and Elhadril's awkwardness.

"Oh, we _really_ repaid him," Elhadril commented, also deciding to move on. Legolas listened attentively as Eldandil explained, "First, we took his sword and tied it onto a thin branch over a pond. When he finally found it and carefully climbed the tree to retrieve it, the twig snapped and he fell into the water! He was soaked! Then, we hollowed out an apple and put a beetle in it. We only meant to scare him when the apple would start rolling around, but the beetle never moved, so Elladan ended up taking a bite. He was terrified when the beetle jumped out! The last one we played on him was putting a bunch of worms in his bed. Then the next night we put a mouse in his room! He screams like a little girl."

"You forgot that we also put a 'Kick Me' sign on his back," Elhadril reminded her.

The two girls began laughing uncontrollably as they recalled the memory. Legolas found himself joining in their mirth. Their story sounded exactly like something the twins would do. It was good to know that someone gave them a dose of their own medicine. It was payback for everything they had done.

 _'_ _That will teach them,'_ Legolas thought darkly, remembering the last prank the twins had pulled on him.

"Oh, that's not a good face. What's wrong?" Eldandil asked, bringing Legolas out of his thoughts. Legolas briefly considered avoiding the question. He hadn't known them for that long, only a few weeks. It didn't strike him as a good idea to tell his newfound friends everything about himself.

But he wasn't going to tell them everything about himself. And they _were_ his friends. Some of his only honest-to-goodness friends, and he trusted them. They wouldn't judge him for anything, neither would they tell anybody else. So, with a deep breath, Legolas told them bitterly, "I was remembering a prank Elladan and Elrohir played on me, after my mother… disappeared. They tricked me into thinking that she was in the forest. She wasn't."

The girls sat in silence for a moment, digesting the information and gathering a reply. In that split second, Legolas wondered if they were indeed judging him for foolishly walking into that trap. His fears were dismissed when Eldandil finally spoke, shaking her head, "That's so mean! Why would they do that?"

Elhadril quickly agreed and said that they should have hidden a snake in his bed instead of worms. Nonpoisonous, of course, but she wouldn't have minded a few bite marks. Legolas was faintly shocked, partly because of the way that they had responded and partly because of what Elhadril said about the snake. He hadn't expected that out of her.

"So… what did your mom look like?" Elhadril asked. Legolas thought a moment before answering, "I don't remember clearly, but my father says that she had bright, beautiful blue eyes, soft, ivory skin, small hands, and silky, wavy silver-blond hair that shone in the sun."

"She sounds beautiful. I'm sorry you lost her."

"Me, too."

The conversation halted there. Everyone was tired, and there was still a long way to go tomorrow. They were at the base of the Misty Mountains, so they all needed their rest to prepare them for that leg of the journey. Legolas watched Eldandil curl up under her blanket and Elhadril stand silently on the rock, alert for danger. They were his friends. His true friends.

As Legolas laid down, about to fall asleep, he made a silent vow: no harm would come to them. Not like his mother.

The sun rose later than the three elves, but not by much. Legolas knew that they had overslept, and he was not happy about it. Eldandil had been on watch, but she hadn't wanted to wake anyone. Apparently, both Elhadril and Legolas himself looked so peaceful in their rest that Eldandil could not bring herself to wake them until later.

That really put a damper on Legolas's schedule, but it was an amendable one. They would just have to walk faster. The Misty Mountains weren't a safe place anyway, so the faster they were over it, the better.

Legolas checked Tinnuroch's bags, mentally noting how much food they had left and trying to calculate how much time they had until it ran out. Satisfied that it would last them well over the mountain range, he checked the weapons next. Eldandil's bow and sword were present, as were Elhadril's. Legolas's own bow was slung over his back, along with his two daggers. Since all of the weapons had been in place, he moved on to the other various camping items. Rope, matches, blankets, knife, firewood…

Where was the firewood? Only a few sticks remained in what he thought should be a full bag. Perhaps he had forgotten to fill it, or most of the wood had fallen out. Either way, he had better fill it now, while they were in the woods.

Briefly, he scanned their campsite, making sure that he would not be needed in the next few minutes. Elhadril noticed him, and asked where he was going. After telling the two sisters what he was going to do, Legolas set out to search for firewood.

He had been gone for a while (he had to venture far to collect even a few pieces, finding it hard to get good firewood) when a shrill, piercing scream filled his ear. The sudden noise startled him and hurt his sensitive hearing. It took few seconds to realize that it had sounded like one of the girls.

Legolas immediately dropped the wood and ran back to the campsite, drawing his bow. Dread filled him, tightening his chest and overthrowing any logical thoughts. No, it was not dread. It was fear.

He ran faster.

He heard a twig snap behind him and fluidly wheeled around, drawing his now loaded bowstring back. Legolas just barely kept himself from accidentally letting an arrow fly into Eldandil's skull. Eldandil squealed in surprise, barely stopping in time to avoid running into him. She was holding her own sword and her bow was draped over her back. A small pouch hung from her belt. Before she could recover from, Legolas put down his bow and demanded, "What are you doing out here?"

"Collecting more food. What are you doing out here?"

"I told you before I left!"

"Oh, right," Eldandil remembered. She looked like she was about to say something else, but Legolas interrupted her, "Where is Elhadril?"

"That's what I was about to tell you! She's still at the camp!"

Another scream split the air, this one more urgent than the last. Various gruff shouts accompanied it. In a flash, Legolas sprinted towards the noise, Eldandil right behind him. It only took another minute to reach their campsite. Or what was left of it. Elhadril was nowhere to be found, and all of their supplies were strewn about or missing. Four orcs lay dead, most of which were decapitated. Tinnuroch was frantically rearing and stomping, trying to break free of the rope that tied her to a tree.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, and the situation was not a good one. Legolas observed the scene in disbelief, denial, and anger.

 _'_ _This can not be happening. Not again. I won't let it.'_

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 **Hello! I hope you all had a wonderful week! Did you like the update? *silence* Ok, well... did you not like it? *crickets chirping in background* Oh, um... you guys are alive, right? *crickets fall silent***

 **Ok then. Now I feel awkward. Moving on. Thanks to... *looks at list* Nohbdy for reviewing. :) Ok, seriously, no one reviewed. Well, if it is mediocre enough to not deserve any form of recognition, then I guess I asked for it. But oh well. If this chapter is any better - or any worse, for that matter - please review. Thanks!**

 **Oh, and I heartily apologize for any mistakes I may have made. I didn't proofread this chapter. Sorry.**

 **I guess that's it. Until next time! Have a great week!**


	8. Chapter 8: Legolas versus Thirty Orcs

**Disclaimer: I did not develop the idea for disclaimers... also, I do not own Middle Earth or its inhabitants.**

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Legolas took a moment to examine the ground. Huge, dog-like paw prints mingled with the orcs' heavy footprints on one side of the clearing, but the rest had only been trampled by the orcs. The dirt was scuffed in several places, starting near the dead orcs and ending at the paw prints, like there had been a struggle. Several small trails of blood outlined the marks, but it was clear that none of it was elvish and only some was from the dead orcs. No, there _was_ some elvish blood near the paw prints, but no blood continued past that point. Also, Elhadril's book was laying open in the dirt beside a tree, in just the right spot to avoid seeing the orcs approaching. Plus, her sword was stuck into the ground a little farther into the woods. Legolas briefly noted the direction the sword was, in relation to the camp. It was south.

Likely conclusion? Elhadril saw the orcs coming, but only when they were almost on top of her, due to her position in front of the tree. She screamed, dropped the book, and retrieved her sword, but it was too late to run. So, Elhadril faced them, managing to kill four and injure more before they grabbed her. Still, she struggled, kicked, punched, swung her sword, and dragged her feet, determined not to cooperate. The orcs fought back, injuring her. They managed to drag her on top of a warg, wrench her sword away from her, and likely bind her wrists and ankles. She screamed again, urgently, but the orcs were already riding away, heading southward.

But that didn't make much sense. Why go south?

Legolas clenched his fist tighter around his bow, a scowl etched deep onto his face. These orcs would pay. First his mother, and now this?

He turned and examined Eldandil, trying to figure out how she was taking the blow of losing her sister. Eldandil had already begun to break down in tears, gently picking up her sister's sword and the book, hugging them tightly. Loud sobs escaped her lips. Evidently, she was not taking this well.

Legolas quickly mounted Tinnuroch, ignoring Eldandil's breakdown the best he could. Don't get him wrong, he sympathized with her, but moping about would not help Elhadril. They needed to move. She was in trouble, and time was of the essence. Legolas knew that the orcs could not have gotten very far, but they were on wargs and likely traveling fast. Eldandil didn't seem to know this but, noticing Legolas's determined face, asked between sobs, "Wha- what are you- you doing?"

"Saving your sister. Now do you want to help or stay here?" he answered. Eldandil hurriedly climbed onto Tinnuroch, sitting behind Legolas and drying her tears the best she could. Without hesitation, Legolas urged Tinnuroch forward, commanding, "Noro lim! Noro lim!"

Tinnuroch sped through the forest, weaving between trees gracefully and effortlessly picking up speed. Even so, it took a while to catch sight of the orcs, who were riding their wargs as if spurred on by whips. Legolas did not bother with secrecy or strategy by approaching the large group from the side but drove Tinnuroch straight ahead, choosing haste. Rage and hate had blinded him. There was no way he was going to let this happen again.

As a consequence of his carelessness, the orcs spotted him quickly and spurred their wargs, moving faster. Legolas did the same; Tinnuroch was still gradually gaining ground. As Tinnuroch closed the gap, both the orcs and two elves drew their weapons. Legolas chose his bow, Eldandil held her sword, and the orcs had a variety of things ranging from a blade to a mace to a sharpened stick. Legolas ignored the orc with the stick. Among the other metal weapons, it sort of looked pathetic.

There were many, many orcs between them and Elhadril, who Legolas could barely see was being held near the front. Legolas aimed to change that. Literally. He aimed at the orc closest to him, who was still a few feet away, and let the arrow fly. The orc fell off, but not before Legolas had dispatched his warg. Both tumbled onto the ground.

Now, Tinnuroch had reached the back of the group. Eldandil quickly swiped at a warg on their left, making it toss its rider in the process, while Legolas stabbed the orc on their right with an arrow and then shot it into the warg. Legolas pulled out two arrows and released the bowstring, impaling both a rider and warg. He then notched three arrows, felling two orcs and a warg.

If the situation wasn't as urgent, he might actually have been having fun.

"Look out!" Eldandil yelled from behind him. Legolas turned to see sword meet sword with a sharp metallic _clang_ , inches from his face. Wasting no time, he drove an arrow into the attacker's stomach, pulling it out again for reuse. The orc fell, and Legolas was about to shoot its warg when movement behind them caught his eye.

"Duck!" Legolas commanded. Eldandil did as instructed a moment before Legolas shot the bloody arrow into another attacking orc's warg. Eldandil sat up again, eyes wide as it crumbled to the ground, bringing its master with it. But her eyes were not focused on the fallen warg behind. Instead, they stared at the warg that had momentarily been forgotten, on their left. Legolas watched with her, frozen, as it tried to sink its teeth into Tinnuroch's leg. The horse ran faster to get away, drawing them further into the group of orcs. They were now fully surrounded.

The orcs seemed to converge on them, like they had been expecting this. And perhaps they had been, but there was no time to dwell on it now. Legolas fired arrow after arrow, trying to keep most of the orcs at bay. What orcs did get close, Eldandil brought an end to. Both elves were starting to tire, their previous burst of reckless adrenaline starting to dwindle. But their ferocity and angry determination didn't cease.

Elhadril had caught sight of them now and frantically began screaming, "Legolas! Eldandil! Get out of here! You are outnumbered! I'll be fine!"

"You've been kidnapped by orcs! Do you really think that's fine?" Eldandil screamed back. Her brief lack of focus earned her a shoulder wound. That orc was dead before it could celebrate its success.

"You're hurt! Leave me! Please!" Elhadril begged. Legolas glanced in her direction and felt a bit of hope. She didn't seem that far away. In fact, there weren't many orcs between them. This gave Legolas the boost he needed to renew his efforts. He _will_ save Elhadril. She will _not_ end up like his mother.

This renewed strength came in the nick of time, because a few moments later one of the now-riderless wargs tried to attack Tinnuroch. In a moment of instinctual motion, Eldandil killed the warg, but not before it landed a hefty blow on the mare's shoulder, leaving behind a large gash. She kept running, but it was obvious from the size of the wound that it she was in pain. It would be cruel to have her run much longer, if she could keep the pace for that long, but at the same time Elhadril was at the mercy of orcs, and Legolas doubted that "mercy" was part of their vocabulary.

Making a quick (and reckless) decision, Legolas literally kicked an orc off his warg, jumped onto it, and shouted to Eldandil, "Get out of here! Meet me at the camp! I'll get Elhadril. Go!"

"But…" Eldandil started to protest.

"Go!"

So Eldandil steered Tinnuroch away from the orcs, leaving Legolas to save her sister. Eldandil had never felt so torn before, wanting so badly to be there for her sister, to aid in her rescue. But Tinnuroch was hurt, and Legolas was more than capable of saving Elhadril, so there was nothing to fear. She kept repeating that to herself, allowing hope and faith to keep her from going back to the fight, _'There is nothing to fear. There is nothing to fear. There is nothing to fear.'_

Meanwhile, Legolas put away his bow and pulled out his daggers, stabbing wargs and slashing orcs. Eventually, he dispatched enough enemies to approach the warg and warg rider bearing Elhadril. The remainder of the orcs, about eight total, converged on Legolas, forcing him back yet again. An archer managed to kill the warg Legolas had borrowed, but this did not hinder the elf. He simply jumped onto the nearest warg, who happened to be riderless, and continued to vent his anger and frustration onto the orcs.

"Legolas! Behind you!" Elhadril screamed a moment before Legolas felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, the force of the blow almost knocking him off his mount. He looked behind him and saw another archer, who he killed quickly with his own bow. He then pulled the arrow out of his shoulder, nocked it, and fired it through the next orc.

The wound burned, sending fiery pain through his body. He had experienced many wounds, but none of them hurt as bad or as thoroughly as this one. In that instant, he knew that the arrow had been poisoned. He could feel it slowly moving through his arm. There was no way for Legolas to know how deep the wound was or how badly it was bleeding, but it didn't matter that much because of the poison. If he did not finish this rescue and get back to camp soon, then he would perish.

They had exited the forest by now and were in a hilly, slightly rocky area beside the mountains, although Legolas only barely registered this fact. Thoughts of haste and vengeance dominated his mind. There were now only five wargs, three of them with riders. He could do this. Legolas could save Elhadril from his mother's fate. He could get back to the camp in time to heal the wound. He could punish the orc scum.

Victory was within his grasp.

"Legolas! You are hurt! Please, Please go back!" Elhadril shouted at him. The orc holding the she-elf was evidently tired of her outbursts and pulled her hair cruelly, threatening, "If you don't shut your gob I'll shut it for ya!"

The pained look on her face as the orc continued to grip her hair tugged on Legolas's heart. Did the orcs treat his mother with similar cruelty? Legolas became all the more enraged.

"I'm not giving up!" Legolas shouted back, stabbing a nearby warg.

"Blood is dripping down your back!" Elhadril protested. The orc gave her hair another sharp tug, causing her to gasp.

"I'll be fine!" Legolas insisted, killing the last riderless warg. Now he just had to defeat the three orcs. The two orcs that were not holding Elhadril raised their weapons: a bow and a sword. The one with the sword was closer and advanced first, so Legolas fought it first. It wasn't as easy to do as before, now that the poison had spread through his arm. Plus, the orc seemed to be stronger and quicker than the others. To say the least, Legolas struggled.

"So will I! Please… Legolas!" Elhadril screamed as another arrow embedded itself into his chest, catching him off guard and knocking him off of the warg. He landed on his back with a loud _thud,_ removing all the air from his lungs _._ Legolas gasped to fill them again, stunned, and belatedly pulled the arrow from his chest. Luckily, the wound wasn't too deep, and there didn't seem to be any damage to his internal organs. And upon a brief inspection, the arrow did not look poisoned, but he _was_ beginning to bleed heavily.

"Legolas!" Elhadril screamed in the distance, her voice laced with panic and concern. Legolas groaned and propped himself up, barely glimpsing the retreating figures of wargs as they disappeared behind a ridge.

"No!" Legolas cried, but he could do nothing. He had failed. Elhadril was gone, taken by the orcs, not to be seen again.

Just like his mother.

* * *

 **Hi, guys! I'm glad that you seem to be liking it so far. I'm assuming, at least. You _did_ decide to keep reading to the eighth chapter. If you don't like it, I would be glad to hear why.**

 **I'm so happy. I got three reviews! Yay! Thanks to _Guest_ 1, _Guest_ 2, and _lightning elf_ for reviewing!**

 **To _G_ _uest_ 1: I am glad that, based on your review, I have managed to develop suspense. That makes me happy. I'm not a worthless writer after all! :) And yes, he probably is. But I wouldn't bet that they are happy flashbacks...**

 **To _Guest_ 2: Thank you! What's this? Is my original character likable enough for you to beg her life? I didn't think that I was ****capable of making a likable character. Characterization isn't my strong point, as you can probably tell. Still, her fate has already been decided... *evil laugh* :) You will have to read and find out.**

 **Also, this reached 1,500 views yesterday! I'm happy. Wait, I already said that. Sorry.**

 **Well, that wraps up this week. Have a great day everyone! See you next Monday!**


	9. Chapter 9: The Chase Ends

**I think that you get the point of my disclaimers. I DON'T OWN LORD OF THE RINGS! Therefore, this is the lest disclaimer for this story. The message will continue through the rest of the chapters, but will be unspoken. You get the point.**

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As Legolas gradually woke up, he became aware of a sharp, throbbing pain in his shoulder. Then he felt one in his stomach. Then at the back of his head. In fact, his whole body ached, but he couldn't remember why. What had he been doing? And how long had it been since he had been doing it?

Slowly, Legolas propped himself up, squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun shining through the trees. He could hear a lark singing softly close by, and there were a couple of squirrels leaping from tree to tree just to his left and above. There was some other noise, too. A soft, labored breathing sound, like someone was in distress.

Eventually, Legolas's eyes cleared enough for him to see that he was back in the clearing where they had made camp. A figure was huddled against a nearby tree, turned away from him. The figure was distinctly female and elf-like. Legolas blinked in confusion, "Eldandil?"

The figure turned and stared at him in shock. Then, she tackled him in a relieved embrace, like a one might give a friend whom they had thought dead, crying, "Legolas!"

"Ow!" was Legolas's first response; her hug managing to touch many bruised areas. Eldandil quickly backed off. Legolas noticed that she was shaking, and her long, black hair was slightly tangled as if she had forgotten to brush it. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears streaked her face. It didn't take a wizard to know that she had been crying.

"Are you ok?" Legolas asked, opting for the obvious question. Eldandil's face scrunched up in pain and her hand went to her mouth. She started crying again. Somewhat uncomfortable, Legolas moved to try and console her, but she moved away, sobbing, "You- you s- said that- that you h- had her. You said th- that you would save h- her."

 _'_ _Save who?'_ Legolas briefly wondered, but no sooner had that question passed through his mind than it was answered. Elhadril. He had been trying to save Elhadril. Suddenly, he remembered everything up until the orcs had gotten away, carrying Eldandil's sister with them. No wonder she was so upset.

But how had he ended up here?

He pushed that question back. There were more important things right now. Legolas refused to allow Elhadril to end up like his mother, Glawardes. He was not going to let that happen.

"How long ago was the attack? How long have I been unconscious?" Legolas asked gently. Eldandil began to determinedly - or maybe hopelessly - wipe away her tears as she replied, "Two days ago. You- you were injured. Poisoned. I couldn't drag you back to Rivendell and I couldn't leave you here while I got help, so I found some athelas and healed you myself. We w- will ne- never see Elhad- hadril ag- gain, will w- we?"

"Yes, we will. I promise," Legolas vowed. And he meant it. His back was sore, there was still a gash in his shoulder and stomach, and his head felt a little woozy every time he moved, but he was going to uphold that promise if it killed him. Which it very well might.

"That's what you said last time," Eldandil whined.

"We leave now," Legolas proclaimed, starting to push himself up. Eldandil quickly pushed him back down, "No! You are still healing. It will be a while before you can move."

"Do you want to rescue Elhadril or not?"

"Of course! But-"

"Then come on. The orcs' trail has probably gone stale by now, at best. We cannot risk it vanishing altogether. And what about Elhadril? Everyone knows that orcs are not gentle with their prisoners," Legolas told her. Eldandil winced and started to tear up again when he told her about orcs not being gentle with their prisoners, and he instantly regretted it. But he went on, "All we know is that they were moving south. That is not enough to go by. They could have steered from that path long ago, and we would never notice if that trail is lost. We must move _now_."

Eldandil shakily nodded her head, bravely putting aside her mourning. Legolas slowly stood up, relying on Eldandil and a nearby tree for support. Then he spotted Tinnuroch grazing nearby, her own wound almost gone. He whistled to her, and she obediently walked towards him, standing completely still as he mounted. Eldandil mounted behind him, reporting all that she had accomplished as Legolas sped Tinnuroch southward, "I have already salvaged and foraged as much as I could, including a bunch of that athelas. We will need to keep applying that, by the way. I also managed to hunt a bit of deer, so we have some meat. Oh, and remember the orcs that fell of their wargs? Well, apparently that little tumble didn't kill them at all, so I went around and finished them off. Also, the other night there was this pack of wolves…"

She kept prattling on and on, but the prattling seemed to keep her spirits up, so Legolas didn't stop her. At least until a sudden, random thought crossed his mind that he simply couldn't keep to himself, "You know, you could have sent Tinnuroch back to Rivendell while you stayed with me. That way, Lord Elrond would have been alerted to our situation and you wouldn't have left me to fend for myself."

Eldandil was silent for a couple of seconds before replying, "Oops. I hadn't thought of that."

 _'_ _Obviously,'_ Legolas teased but did not say. Somehow he doubted that that would pass off as a joke. So, they rode on in silence, hoping to reach Elhadril before it was too late.

* * *

It was a the next day when Legolas found out what had happened to him after he had seen Elhadril riding away. Apparently, Eldandil had been killing the remaining orcs when she found one crouched over a body not too far away from the campsite. Eldandil shot it quickly, and she was both horrified and grieved to discover that the body was Legolas. At first, she had thought that he was dead. But he had moaned when she had tried to move him, so Eldandil quickly realized that he was indeed alive. Of course, he had been bleeding severely and there had been a huge knot on the back of his head, but at least he was alive. She then had to lift him onto Tinnuroch so that she could move him back to the campsite. But that had proved more difficult than she had planned, so the ride to Rivendell was not an option. As a result, she stayed with Legolas in the campsite.

By the end of the story, they had found what remained of the trail and were currently following the river Loudwater. They had ridden none-stop, taking turns sleeping and riding. Legolas thought that they were making good progress, but there was no telling if Elhadril would still be alive when they found her.

So far, it looked like the orcs were heading towards Tharbad, but Legolas had no idea why. In some ways, it was the perfect location for anything the orcs might be planning since it was so out of the way, and it _was_ an abandoned, ruined, fortified town. But it was in the middle of nowhere. Whatever the orcs might be planning, it would never have a very big impact from there. They could possibly raid a couple of nearby towns, but that was about it.

Nonetheless, Legolas and Eldandil kept riding.

* * *

It was the day after that when they found Elhadril. By now, they had reached Nin-in-Eiliph, a marshy area more commonly known as Swanfleet. As one might have guessed, there were many swans in the area, though they all scattered before Tinnuroch as she thundered past, bearing Legolas and Eldandil. Legolas was very thankful for the mare's sure-footing and stamina, for they had only stopped twice during the urgent trip. Although he was certain that they would have to take another break soon, because Eldandil had just swallowed a very liberal amount of water and was now shifting around uncomfortably behind him, and Legolas doubted that it was because of the saddle.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to go barreling into a marsh so carelessly. Swanfleet, being a marsh, is quite dangerous and could have many sinkholes and pluff mud traps beneath its shallow waters. It was only by luck that they didn't sink into the silt and never some out again.

As it was, it was remarkably harder to track the orcs now that they were in a marsh. In fact, it was getting pretty impossible. Legolas had to slow Tinnuroch down to a walk so that his elf-eyes could examine the ground more closely, looking for anything that might point him in the right direction. The soft, repetitive _slush slush_ of Tinnuroch's hooves moving through the water quickly turned monotonous as time went on. Legolas could not find anything at all to tell him where the orcs went. All he could see was the murky water and whatever reeds and grasses stuck their tips above it.

Eventually, Legolas gave up and simply turned Tinnuroch towards Tharbad. It was a risk, but hopefully it would pay off. On one hand, that was where Legolas had suspected that they had taken Elhadril, and he would find her faster this way than if he had stayed in the marsh looking for clues. On the other hand, Legolas would be wasting a lot of time if she wasn't there, and time was precious.

"Um, Legolas?" Eldandil asked. They had been riding full speed again for only a few minutes.

"What's wrong?"

"Um, I need to… go."

"Go where? Oh," Legolas responded, his voice trailing off with understanding. He looked around for a place to stop, preferably a place with some cover and dry land. By chance, he spotted a clump of trees in the distance and headed that way, hoping that there were some nice bushes or something else that would provide cover. The water grew deeper not too long after he started heading in that direction, and soon the water was up to Tinnuroch's stomach. Surprisingly, it didn't get much deeper than that, so Legolas pushed the mare on, eventually leaving what Legolas assumed was a river behind.

It only took a couple of minutes to reach the small clump of trees, which turned out to be part of a nearby forest. It was positioned just slightly above the waterline, meaning that it was fairly dry. Legolas dismounted and led Tinnuroch, who still had Eldandil on her back, through the tree line, making sure that no one could see them from the marsh. Satisfied that no orcs would attack them at an inopportune time, Legolas tended to Tinnuroch while Eldandil hopped off and ducked behind a bush.

Legolas checked Tinnuroch's hooves, listening to the birds singing overhead. The forest seemed so peaceful. He might have been enjoying himself under a different circumstance. As it was, Legolas quickly found himself dozing off. He hadn't slept well since the kidnapping - not hat he particularly needed to. The atmosphere was so calm, so peaceful, that he was having a hard time staying alert. Legolas kept having to remind himself, _'There could be orcs nearby.'_

Just as he was about to fall under the forest's drowsy spell, Eldandil's scream jolted him awake. He instantly pulled out his bow and sprinted in the direction of the noise, his heart beating faster as she yelled, "Legolas! Come quick! It's Elhadril!"

He found Eldandil crouched over a figure splayed out in the middle of a nearby clearing, a dead orc and two dead wargs laying around her. Legolas sucked in a horrified breath when he saw the figure. Elhadril.

The elf maiden was barely recognizable. Her skin was no longer porcelain, but blue and black with bruises. One eye was a deep purple and swollen shut. Cuts laced her face and body, still leaking blood. Her clothes were torn, revealing more wounds. Her brown hair was matted and stained red with blood. Legolas had to look hard to notice her breathing, and she appeared unconscious. He wondered if this was how his mother had been treated.

He didn't want to think about it.

Legolas slowly approached Eldandil, who he could tell was crying. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her. She barely glanced at him and cried, "Look. Look at her. Look what they did."

"I know," Legolas responded, grief and anger intermingling within him. "Let's get her back to Rivendell."

Eldandil barely nodded and allowed Legolas to put away his bow and move to carry Elhadril. He carefully eased his arm under her knees and back, holding her bridal-style. As soon as he stood up, Eldandil told him to put her back down. Although confused, he obeyed, gently setting Elhadril back onto the ground. Eldandil slowly rolled her sister onto her stomach. It took a moment for Legolas to realize why.

Elhadril's back was covered with deep cuts. Many cuts. Cuts that come from a whip. Eldandil audibly bit back a sob. The sight was… disturbing, really. The blood was dry, and a couple places looked infected.

"She is going to be in so much pain," Eldandil whimpered, stifling tears. Legolas attempted to comfort her, "At least she hasn't suffered the same fate as Finduilas."

"Legolas!" Eldandil yelped, looking mortified. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to remind her of the elf maiden who had been kidnapped by orcs and ended up nailed to a tree with a spear in her side. Sure, that had been way before either of them were born, but the story was not a happy one.

Eldandil reached out her hand and touched her sister's wounds. A soft, low, pained moan escaped Elhadril. Legolas was beside her in an instant while Eldandil attempted to ease her pain. He whispered, "It's ok. You're safe now. We're going to get you to Rivendell, okay?"

Elhadril let out another groan, and her eyes remained closed. Her voice was barely audible as she mumbled, "Nn. Rm. Trop. Lev mm."

"What?" Legolas asked quietly, not making any sense of the string of sounds.

"Run. Trap. Leave me," she whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous. There are no more orcs. You're safe now," Legolas whispered back.

"Trap. Leave me," Elhadril repeated. Legolas was not about to leave her, and neither was Eldandil. He gently picked up Elhadril once again and set off for Tinnuroch, Eldandil following him, while Elhadril inarticulately insisting that there was danger. That was when Legolas noticed it. The birds had stopped singing.

He whipped around in time to see orcs jump into the clearing. Legolas and Eldandil had been so overwhelmed with Elhadril that they had forgotten about the potential dangers, namely the one that had gotten them in this situation. They hadn't noticed that there was still one orc and his warg missing when they had entered the clearing. They didn't know that it was a trap.

Eldandil pulled out her bow and started firing, but Legolas could do nothing. His arms were full carrying Elhadril. It occurred to him that that was why the orcs didn't attack immediately, because they had been waiting for one of them to be rendered useless. To be unable to fight.

If it was possible, his hate for the creatures grew.

"Run!" Legolas shouted and sprinted towards Tinnuroch, careful to keep Elhadril as still as possible. Eldandil followed closely as they ran back into the trees and towards the edge of the forest.

They reached Tinnuroch, but not fast enough. Orcs had already surrounded their horse, their only means of escape. Legolas turned to run the opposite way, but the orcs behind them had already caught up. He looked this way and that, searching for a gap, a weak point in the orcs' ranks.

Eldandil put her bow to use and downed one orc after another, but Legolas knew that it was pointless. They were surrounded, and there was nothing that they could do about it.

"Eldandil. Eldandil! Put the bow down," Legolas commanded. She stopped, poised to strike, and asked incredulously, "We are just going to surrender?!"

"Put the bow down," he repeated. Eldandil reluctantly obeyed, setting her bow on the ground, glaring at the orcs and raising her hands in defeat. Legolas admitted that the idea seemed ludicrous, but what else could they do? The orcs clearly wanted prisoners, otherwise they would have shot Legolas and Elhadril and been done with it. The prospect of being held prisoner by orcs wasn't the most comforting, but at least it meant that they would survive for a while longer, maybe even long enough to escape. If they kept fighting, then the orcs would surely get angry and kill them.

The orcs approached them slowly, probably wondering if they were really giving up. While most orcs kept their swords and bows set on the three elves, a few set down their own weapons and started checking each elf's pockets and belt for daggers and extra arrows, eventually ridding them of all equipment. Legolas wished that he had put a knife in his boot, where the orcs were unlikely to find it. For whatever reason, they hadn't caught on to that trick yet. Stupid orc-scum.

One orc, who was bigger than the rest, strutted up to him and greeted coldly, "Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. We have been expecting you."

Legolas glared at the orc, making no verbal response. The orc continued, "You see, we knew that you would come to save your friend. Ideally, we wanted to catch only you and kill these two she-elves close to Rivendell, so that the word of your capture would spread, but you made that… difficult."

Again, Legolas just glared, allowing the orc to go on, "Thranduil is weak. You know that better than I do. Ever since he has lost his _precious_ wife, he has been sinking farther and farther into his grief. And with you gone, just like her, he will slip even further. He will die of grief, just like so many elf-scum before him."

Holding Elhadril was the only thing keeping Legolas from throttling this monster. The orc must have seen it, because he smirked and explained, "Yes, our Master has planned his death for a while. We killed your mother, hoping that that would do him in. But he survived, so now we will kill you. Mirkwood will fall. Our Master will gain full control over that forest once more."

Legolas barely registered that the orc had just informed him of Sauron's return and course of action, instead focusing on one thing. They killed his mother. His mother was _dead_. Legolas couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. But the smug smile on the orc's face convinced him. He would never see his nana. Never.

"Then why don't you kill me now and get it over with," Legolas asked, defeated and depressed. The orc's grin turned cruel, and Legolas heard a _crack_ behind him. Some more orcs came and roughly grabbed Legolas, forcing unconscious Elhadril away from him. He heard some struggling behind him and knew that the orcs had grabbed Eldandil. They tied his hands to an overhead branch while the orc leader laughed, "What would be the fun in that?"

* * *

 **Hi guys! Did you like it? Did you? Yes, no, maybe? Sorry that I didn't post it earlier. I woke up late, then I had to go do something for my church.**

 **I don't think anyone reviewed the last chapter. If you did, then I am sorry that I missed it. If you didn't, then you should this chapter. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I CAN NOT READ MINDS!**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Have a great day!**


	10. Chapter 10: Escape

Legolas's back stung and bled from being whipped, and he could hear Eldandil's quiet sobbing behind him, distraught at watching him get tortured and frightened that she might endure the same. They were now on their way to Tharbad, probably to get a more _professional_ treatment. Legolas should have been dreading it, like Eldandil no doubt was, but he was still grieving the loss of his mother. Again.

 _'_ _If only I had looked harder,'_ he thought. _'If only I had been quicker. If only I had know where to look. If only I had put in more effort. If only I had organized a more complete search. If only there had been more searches. If only I had been there for her. She might still be alive.'_

Eldandil and Elhadril were both being carried by separate orcs on their wargs. Eldandil was behind him, and Elhadril was in front of him. Elhadril was still unconscious, but he knew that Eldandil was currently well because there had been no screaming or gasps of pain from her direction. Yet. The orcs had scornfully put him on his own horse, throwing insults at him, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, captured by orcs. His hands were bound to Tinnuroch's saddle, which was probably causing the mare great discomfort by now, and Tinnuroch was tied to a warg.

It seemed that all was lost. All three of them were about to be tortured for the rest of their days, which might not be a particularly long time. Legolas hoped that Eldandil and Elhadril would get a relatively painless, early death and be spared the pain that was to come. How strange it was, to wish death on people you care about. Strange that, soon, death was probably going to be considered mercy.

It was not long before Legolas saw Tharbad, sitting beside the river across the marsh, but it seemed to take an agonizingly long time to get there. The procession passed through the gates and stopped. More orcs greeted them, and Legolas found himself being shoved off Tinnuroch and dragged away alongside Eldandil and Elhadril. Elhadril was conscious now and being forced to walk, though her legs would barely hold her up. Legolas predicted that they only had about three days to escape before Elhadril's body quit entirely.

But Legolas wasn't even sure if he wanted to escape anymore. His whole life, he had been searching for his mother. That was the only thing that ever mattered. Finding her was the only thing he looked forward to. If he had found her, he could have saved his father and his kingdom, and he would have had a mother again. But now she was dead. Gone. Never to be found. His father would die of grief, his new friends would die of torture, and Legolas would be forced to endure under pain until he could bear it no longer.

All this to say, Legolas had lost hope.

They were led to and thrown in some partially-underground cells. The cells were more or less three-feet-deep, squarish holes dug into the earth with evenly spaced, parallel metal bars over the top. The walls were rock, preventing Legolas from burrowing out and water from escaping. The collected rainwater and marsh water was halfway up to Legolas's shin. Because of the height of the cell, he was forced to sit down in it. He wondered how many prisoners drowned in their sleep.

The sun above him was merciless, and the murky water below him was warm. A rancid odor wafted around the cell, and suddenly Legolas wasn't so sure how much of the liquid he was sitting in was actually water.

The orcs continued to mock him for a few more minutes, but soon left, either because of boredom or unfinished work. Legolas heard a tentative voice call from a nearby cell, "Legolas, Elhadril, can you guys hear me?"

"I can. I told… you two… to flee," came an answer, her words coming out in gasps. Elhadril. She was clearly exhausted, having to catch her breath after every few syllables.

"But we couldn't just leave you! Legolas, can you hear me?"

Legolas didn't answer Eldandil's question. He was still moping about his mother.

"Legolas?" Eldandil asked again.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"Legolas! Please answer. This is not funny!" Elhadril tried, her voice rising in panic. Legolas snapped, "Do you think that I am _laughing_? I assure you, I have not been farther from the notion! Let me be!"

There was a long, shocked silence, and Legolas began to feel guilty. He knew that what he had said was unfair. They had only been trying to help him, to make sure that he was ok. And what had he done? He yelled at them to stop caring.

"I'm sorry," Legolas apologized. "But my mother… I just learned that she was dead. I just wasn't prepared for the news."

There was another moment of silence, and Legolas started to wonder if the girls were angry at him. But Eldandil's voice soon came back, "Oh, Legolas! I am so sorry! We understand how you feel."

Somehow, Legolas doubted that. How could anyone go through a loss as crushing as his and still be as happy as Eldandil and Elhadril?

"You don't believe us, do you?" Elhadril asked gently after a long moment of silence. Legolas slowly shook his head, then remembered that they couldn't see that and answered, "It is a little difficult to envision."

"Legolas, our parents _died_ ," Elhadril told him. Legolas could hear Eldandil start weeping quietly at the memory. Legolas felt even guiltier. He had had no idea.

"But I thought that one of the reasons you came to Rivendell was to see your family," Legolas protested stupidly.

"We did," Elhadril replied, her voice beginning to crack. "Their graves are in Rivendell, and we have a little brother. He wasn't there, though, so it was just Nana and Ada."

Legolas was about to apologize for doubting the severity of their pain, but Elhadril continued, her voice framed by Eldandil's soft sobs, "There was a forest fire close to Rivendell more than three hundred years ago. It wasn't a big one, but it was enough to cause some worry. Many people fought it, fetching buckets of water and throwing it onto the greedy inferno. Our parents were among them. Our mother was trying to help a few others douse a flame when a fiery tree fell and blocked their escape. A few people, including our father, saw what had happened and tried to put out the tree, but the smoke was so thick that they couldn't continue. Most gave up, knowing that it was hopeless, but our father was one of the ones that stayed. They found him the day after. He breathed too much smoke. We still don't know if our mom died of the smoke or severe burns."

"I am so sorry," Legolas apologized sincerely. Eldandil was still pulling herself back together, so Elhadril answered, "That's ok. Our brother hadn't been injured, so we still have him. And we still have each other. That was probably the only way we coped with the loss."

Legolas nodded, forgetting once again that they couldn't see him. He heard Elhadril take a deep breath and continue, "Sorry for boring you with that depressing tale. All that I wanted to tell you was that you are not alone. We are here for you, Legolas. We are your friends, and we want to help."

"Thank you," Legolas told them. He had needed the encouragement. Did it soften the blow of his mother's death? No, but it gave him a little bit of courage to go on. That was something he desperately needed.

There was another long silence before Elhadril spoke up again, "We can all mourn later. Right now we need to escape. Anyone have an idea?"

Legolas looked around his cell. Stone for walls, iron bars for a roof, water-tight flooring. No escape there.

Legolas and Eldandil both answered that they did not have ideas. Elhadril sighed, "Fine. Does anyone have anything _useful_?"

Legolas knew that he didn't. The orcs had taken everything. But Eldandil answered, "I have a dagger."

"Keep it hidden. Anything else?"

"No."

"That's ok. Everybody think. How can we escape?"

Legolas stared at the iron bars above him. That was where they were going to escape. It didn't make sense for them to dig through the stone wall, and it made even less sense to burrow through the floor, so up was the way to go. But how?

There had to be an opening somewhere. There had to be some way to remove the bars. The orcs had thrown them in that way, after all. Cautiously, Legolas began pushing on a few bars, trying to see if any of them would move. He worked his way from one end of the cell to the other, thinking dismissively, _'No. No. No. No. Yes!'_

The ones at the end. They had lifted, if only just a little bit. He joyfully shared the news, "Some of the bars can move. Try lifting them up."

"Ok," came the reply. He heard some water sloshing as they shuffled around the best they could, trying different iron bars. Then Legolas heard something else. Footsteps. Had one of them managed to get free?

No, these footsteps were heavy, not light like an elf's. They belonged to their captors. Legolas urgently warned, "Orcs!"

Immediately, the water in the other cells ceased to make any sound. Legolas listened anxiously as the orcs drew closer, their elated voices loud and undisguised. Suddenly, the lead orc, the same one from earlier, spoke up, "Alright you elf-scum. Just received word from the Master that we are to start sending bodies. Who wants to volunteer?"

The orcs accompanying him laughed as the lead orc paced around the cells, peering into each one. He stopped at the one Legolas thought contained Eldandil. He boomed, "Open the cell!"

 _'_ _No!'_ Legolas shouted in his mind. Through the bars, he could see the lead orc roughly pulling the elf maiden out of her cell and to her feet. He shoved her forward, and suddenly she fell, rolling until she was partially on top of Legolas's cell. Eldandil held her ankle tightly, crying, "Ow! My foot!"

While the orcs laughed and jeered at her, Legolas watched her hand slip into her boot discreetly and pull out a dagger, dropping it into the water with a small splash - a noise that was hidden by the orcs' jests. Two orcs yanked her to her feet a moment later, making her face the leader, who growled, "Don't worry. Your ankle will be the least of your worries once we're through with you

Poor Eldandil looked terrified. Elhadril screamed, "Leave her alone!"

"Did I hear a volunteer?" the orc asked, striding towards Elhadril's cell. That one, too, must have been opened, because Elhadril was picked up by two orcs and thrown to the ground in front of the leader. Legolas watched as he spit on her.

Legolas was furious. Furious at himself for staying silent, at the orcs that killed his mother, and at these orcs for hurting his friends. He yelled at them as they walked away, dragging Eldandil and Elhadril to their execution, "Release them!"

The orcs were silent for a moment, then they began to howl with laughter. The lead orc knelt beside his cell and challenged, "Or what?"

Legolas then realized that he had been stupid for speaking up. He could give no threat. Neither did he have an offer. He thought quickly, "If you let them go, then I will not fight you. I will go peacefully."

Legolas had thought that this was a decent bargain, but it only renewed the orcs' merriment. The lead orc sneered menacingly, "You will go peacefully, eh? You will _go_ whether you fight us or not. And by all means, fight us. It makes watching you burn all the more enjoyable."

Legolas had nothing else to say. There was nothing else he _could_ say. The orcs walked away, Eldandil and Elhadril unwillingly following. Legolas was not going to let them suffer. He would save them. He would learn from his mistake with his mother. They will not suffer at the hands of orcs. They _will not_.

Legolas waited until the orcs were well out of hearing range before practically jumping towards the spot where the dagger had dropped. He felt around in the murky water until his hand brushed against its blade. He snatched it without another thought and pressed up on the movable bars. They only raised an inch or so. Not enough to squeeze through.

Legolas kept pushing and pushing, hoping to loosen whatever was holding them down. It seemed to be working, because soon the bars were two inches above the edge of the cell. Then three inches. Then four.

With his elven hearing, Legolas listened to the cheers of the orcs in the distance. The lead orc was rallying the crowd, "Which one goes first?"

"The black haired one!" someone shouted. He wanted to murder Eldandil. But others took up a different cry, "No, the brown haired one!"

Soon, everyone was chanting, "Brown! Brown! Brown! Brown!"

They would be executing Elhadril first. Legolas tried to raise the bars higher, but they wouldn't budge anymore. He continued to hold them up as he peeked over the edge. There was a rope holding them in place.

"She does look pretty beaten, doesn't she? Not much more fun she can stand. How about we put her out of her misery like the dog she is?" the lead orc was saying. That brought a huge cheer from the crowd. Legolas would have to hurry.

The rope was thick. It would be easier to untie than to cut, so Legolas reached out as far as he could, aiming for the knot. He couldn't reach it.

"How should we kill her?" the leader asked. There was some quarreling among the orcs, none of them reaching an immediate agreement. Legolas hoped that that would stall them for a while.

Legolas gripped the dagger and tried to wedge it into the knot, pulling on a few pieces of rope and trying to untie it that way. The knot stayed exactly as it was. All of the pushing on the bars had pulled the knot tight. He would have to cut it.

As Legolas sawed vigorously at the rope, he heard the lead orc yell incredulously, "Beheading? I thought that you were more creative than that! Use your meatheads!"

 _'_ _They are close to an agreement,'_ Legolas realized, sawing harder.

"So what will it be, gentlemen?"

"Poison! Poison!" the crowd chanted. Legolas was trying to move impossibly fast now. He had to get out. He had to save them.

"Poison it is!"

The crowd cheered and laughed maniacally, sending Legolas into a frenzy.

 _Snap!_ The last strand broke, and Legolas wasted no time in pushing the bars open and jumping out, sprinting to where the orcs had dragged Eldandil and Elhadril. Legolas now knew why he could hear the orc so clearly: the gathering was right outside of the area containing the cells. Two orcs guarded the entrance, but they were intently watching the execution, which was taking place at the other side of the large town square.

Eldandil and Elhadril were both tied to different flogging posts, hands in front. The lead orc was standing between them and slightly in front, holding a knife coated in some liquid in his raised hand, seeking the approval of the crowd, which was given eagerly and earnestly. Elhadril had tears rolling down her cheeks, and she stared at the flogging post with a hopeless, blank expression. Eldandil was outright crying, watching her sister. It was clear that they were both terrified.

Legolas hid behind a pillar as the lead orc's gaze swept by the two guards. He knew that he could not kill them without drawing the attention of the other orcs, whose numbers reached beyond a hundred. He would not be able to fight his way through so many foes, especially without his weapons, and the lead orc would likely kill both girls before he reached them.

There had to be another way.

Legolas looked around. How could he get to Elhadril and Eldandil? He needed to get there fast, because the orcs had already taken up the chant, "Kill her! Make her scream! Death to the elf-scum!"

 _'_ _There!'_ Legolas thought desperately. _'The roofs of these buildings are not too high. I could sneak along them and see what I can do.'_

Hastily, he leapt and gripped the edge of the nearest roof, pulling himself up. Legolas then skillfully ran along the rim, using the higher center for cover and staying low. In no time, he was above the lead orc, Eldandil, and Elhadril. Luckily, no one was paying any attention to what was going on above them. Legolas looked down and saw why.

The orc had forced Elhadril onto her knees and had just finished using his knife to carve a long line down her outstretched arm. Eldandil screamed first, "Elhadril! No!"

Legolas was frozen for a second, watching Elhadril's face twist up in pain. The lead orc backhanded her across the face, yelling, "Go on! Scream!"

The blow must have loosened her lips, because a loud, shrill, agonizing scream pierced the air. It was the most pained sound Legolas had ever heard, and it was enough to wake him from his stupor. With a shout, he jumped down, slit the orc's throat, and cut each girl's thin bonds in two swift motions. It took until then for the other orcs to react. The ones without weapons (which was, thankfully, a lot of them, since they had not been expecting an attack) ran towards the armories while the ones with weapons ran towards Legolas. This created an uphill battle for the armed orcs; they had to fight against the crowd.

"Run!" Legolas shouted. He and Eldandil were about to sprint towards the exit when they looked behind them and saw that Elhadril was writhing around on the ground, clutching her bleeding arm and still crying out. Legolas shoved the dagger at Eldandil, picked up Elhadril, and took off towards the exit. Eldandil led the way, since she had the dagger and had been paying more attention to where the exits were than Legolas.

They ran among the weaponless orcs, who gave them a wide berth, fearing their own demise more than their prisoners' escape. Any orc that did get close was quickly cut down, armed or not. There was apparently an armory close to the exit, because the number of armed orcs was steadily increasing. It was becoming harder and harder to reach the exit, which Legolas could now see quite plainly. They were almost there. Just a little more…

Eldandil got caught up fighting the orcs attacking from the left side, which greatly slowed their progress. An orc suddenly appeared in front of Legolas, halting progress completely. He raised his sword, prepared to stab the elf prince, just as Legolas had done to so many other orcs. But now, Legolas was helpless. There was nothing he could do but resign to his fate and wait for the blow.

An arrow sprouted from the orc's head, and he fell. Legolas looked around. Where had _that_ come from? Around him, everyone who had seen the incident was wondering the same thing. It only took a couple of minutes for each pair of eyes to land on a figure standing on the fortified wall of the fortress. The figure gracefully pulled out a sword and leapt down into the throng, killing orcs left and right.

The fainthearted fled in terror, but the strong charged with fury. All forgot about Legolas, Eldandil, and Elhadril. All took up the cry, "Death! Death!"

"What?" Eldandil asked, confused. Legolas didn't have an answer, but he didn't need one, either. He ran towards the exit - and the figure - with haste, Eldandil right behind him. The figure swiftly cleared the area in front of the exit, allowing them to run through with relative ease. And run they did. Legolas didn't look back once.

At some point, the figure joined up with them, riding a very battered Tinnuroch. Legolas didn't know how the figure had found the mare, but he was grateful and let him/her lead the way through the marsh and into a nearby forest. The figure stopped abruptly in front of a small cottage, and Legolas almost ran into Tinnuroch.

The figure dismounted and took off the hood, revealing that it was a she-elf. Legolas stared at the woman, who had bright blue eyes, soft, ivory skin, small hands, and silky, silvery-blond hair that waved.

* * *

 **Hello once again. What do you think? WHO IS THIS MYSTERIOUS WOMAN? Ok, fine, it's not that mysterious. I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Thanks to _Guest_ 1, _Guest_ 2, _Cherlyn lopez_ , _kiki272002_ , _Guest_ 3, _Guest_ 4, _Guest_ 5, _Guest_ 6, _Guest_ 7, _Guest_ 8, _Guest_ 9, _Guest_ 10, and _Guest_ 11 for reviewing! Wow, _thirteen_ reviews! THIS IS AWESOME! Seriously, every time I logged on to my computer it informed me of new reviews. I almost feel like I must have been dreaming. BUT IT WAS REAL! :D**

 **To _Guest_ 1: I seriously doubt that you will ever read this because you went ahead and reviewed the first chapter and none of the others, indicating that you didn't read on, but I'll post this anyway. I am sorry that my fanfic is such a big disappointment. I am also sorry that I managed to, in your eyes, turn a canon character into a Mary Sue. Sadly, I can not fix it since you did not specify which character and in what way they behaved like a Mary Sue. If you are reading this, I hope that the story got better, and I want to know the reason behind your opinion. Thanks for reviewing, though!**

 **To _Guest_ 2: I'm glad you like it! I shall not tell you when Legolas will see his Nana, because that would be a spoiler to all the people who skimmed over that last sentence. :) Thanks for the review!**

 **To _Cherlyn lopez_ : Thank you for reviewing! And thank you for the compliment. I'm glad that you think it's well written. That means a lot. I hope you enjoyed this one as well!**

 **To _Guest_ 3: Well, guess poor skill is expected. I'll proofread the story again later to weed out the grammatical errors. I'm so so so so SO glad you like it! Well, now you know how he got out. But what happens next? DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN! On second thought, this doesn't actually count as a cliffhanger, does it? Oh well. Thanks for the review!**

 **To _Guest_ 4: I think I'm about to cry. That review was beautiful. Personally, I didn't think that I managed to create something like what you described, but I am glad you think so. I hope I can manage to do that again. Thank you for the review!**

 **To _Guest_ 5: Ok, I'll go back and clarify that. Thanks! I managed to put the reader in Legolas's position? That's great! Thank you so much! EDIT: I'm not entirely sure how it needs to be clarified. Would you mind telling me what was confusing? I'm trying to fix it, but I'm not sure how. Thanks!**

 **To _Guest_ 6: You'll see what happened to Glawardes... Or you could take heart in that last sentence again. :)**

 **To _Guest_ 7: I can not tell you. That would be a spoiler. :) Aww, thank you! I'm glad that you like the fanfic. You will see what happens to my two OCs soon. ****Strangely enough, most people seem to like them. Huh. Anyway, I agree with your point on Glawardes, but more on that in the next chapter...**

 **To _Guest_ 8: They are going to inflict that torture. No, you probably don't want to think about it. I could have done more but, well, I didn't want to make the chapter too long. Anyway, I am glad that they are enjoyable. Once again, I view my characterization skills as low, so that compliment really does mean something. And you will eventually see what happens to them. But yes, the orcs will pay! DIE ORC FILTH! *runs away to find orcs***

 **To _Guest_ 9: Alas! Alas at that last sentence! Alas that they escaped! Alas at the mysterious woman! Hehe, that's fun. I may have just misused "Alas" four ****sequential times, but it was fun. Anyway, I'm glad that you like it. Thanks for the review!**

 **To _Guest_ 10: Yeah, there is an explanation for that later. It's not much of a spoiler, so I'll go ahead and tell you that he's half orc, which is actually still canon. Hahaha, and we all know how that ended for the Moria orcs. :) Physically torturing people seems to have more of a visual effect than emotional, such as hitting someone (which would create physical bruises) versus telling someone that a loved one has died (which will make someone sad, but not necessarily cry uncontrollably). Therefore one can infer that hitting someone stimulates whatever evil desire drives them to... I'm ranting, aren't I? Sorry. Anyway, are the sisters really some of your favorite characters? Honestly? I'm surprised at how many people like them. It's what I always wanted, but I figured that I would mess them up. Glad to see that I didn't. Well, I let them escape, and that counts as mercy, right? You are not making a fool of yourself! But my answer to your review is getting long, so I'm the one who should shut my mouth... hands... fingers? Oh well. Thanks for the review!**

 **To _Guest_ 11: Ok, we are finally to you. PLEASE DON'T DIE! If you die, you won't be able to read on, which would be really ironic. I knew that some of those were from the same person! Hahaha, I do ****that, too! Glad to know that my fanfic is sticking with you. I hope that it didn't torture you this last week, though. I don't want to torture my readers... just rip out their heart and shred it to a million pieces. Okay, I'm joking! So you love the drama? Those middle chapters must have been really boring then, huh? Yes, Haldir's death was unfortunate. But the elves never went to Helm's Deep in the books, so ha! I can't remember what happened to him, though... Anyway, I hope that you kept your nails and found your mind, both of which are required to read online fanfics comfortably. Thanks for the review and I hope you liked it!**

 **As of right now, the fanfic is up to 16 followers, 8 favorites, and more than 2,000 views. Thank you guys for your support! It means a lot to me! Also, since I seem to have a lot of guests reviewing (once again, thank you!), you don't have to review as Guest each time. I think you just click where it says "Guest" above where you write the review, and you can change it to whatever. For example, I used to review as _ME_. Just a tip so that you don't have to keep scrolling through all of the other Guest reviews to find yours. :)**

 **Well, That about sums it up. NO, WAIT! I forgot to mention that I have a poll up on my profile. Please vote for the next fanfic I should work on. Thanks!**

 **Ok, now I'm finished with this super-duper extra long Author's Note that almost rivals the chapter. School will start soon, as in it started today, and I have no idea if that will affect my updating. I'll be sure to let you guys know. Have a great day!**


	11. Chapter 11: Meetings

**New Disclaimer: I own nothing. This apparently includes my own OCs. So, I have no claim except for the plot. Until that is also taken away.**

* * *

Glawardes stared at this elf, who looked so familiar yet so strange. His grey eyes, sitting atop high cheekbones and crowned with dark eyebrows, stared back at her. His straight, blond hair blew in the slight breeze. His clothes were of Mirkwood, and his demeanor spoke of royal blood. One thought flew through her mind as rapidly as they had run away from the orcs just moments ago, _'Please don't be Thranduil. Please don't be Thranduil. Please don't be Thranduil. Please don't be Thranduil.'_

The elf was watching her with the same intensity and inspection. No doubt he recognized her. Was he going to say her name? Demand why she had given the orcs the information? Drag her back to Mirkwood to pay for her betrayal? It's not like he could - or would - do anything that hadn't been done to her before. The orcs had made sure of that.

"Are you going to help her or not?" the elf maiden beside the elf asked impatiently. She had blue eyes and long, raven-black hair that was pulled back in what was probably an intricate braid before the orcs destroyed it.

At first, the familiar elf turned to her confused. Then the raven-headed girl shouted desperately, "SHE'S BLEEDING OUT! DO SOMETHING!"

Then Glawardes remembered the girl in the elf's arms, who looked identical to the raven-headed girl except that her hair was brown. She had started to spasm violently sometime during the escape, but her eyes were now closing and her movements getting weaker. She didn't have much time.

"Hurry! Inside!"

Leaving Tinnuroch outside to graze, everyone heeded Glawardes's orders and followed her inside her home, a decent cottage that she had been constantly improving since she had discovered it. She swung open the sturdy, oak door and quickly cleared the wooden table. The elf gently set the brown-haired elleth on the kitchen table, but Glawardes doubted that it mattered anymore. The poor elleth was already unconscious. Athelas might not even be enough, depending on the poison that the orcs had used.

Unfortunately, Glawardes didn't have any athelas. She was going to have to make due with her own herbs.

The familiar elf was still staring at Glawardes periodically, making her lose focus. She needed to get him out of the way if she was going to heal the poor elleth. Thinking quickly, she grabbed a large bucket and shoved it at him, commanding, "Go and get some clean water. There is a well out back."

He nodded and ran outside. Glawardes knew that the task would not take him long and quickly examined the unconscious elleth, making a mental list of herbs she would need.

The wound on her arm was not too deep, but it was visibly poisoned and looked horrible. It was long, jagged, inflamed, and bleeding heavily. To make matters worse, she was having difficulty breathing, and her forehead was hot. Also, her eye was purple and swollen, but that was the least of her worries. There was little hope for her survival, but Glawardes didn't dwell on hope anymore.

"Get a fire started," Glawardes told the raven-headed elleth before running to the storeroom. She grabbed yarrow for the bleeding, goldenrod for the inflammation, feverfew for the fever, lungwort for the breathing problem,comfrey root for the black eye, and some honey for good measure, just in case. There was no guarantee that any of these would help, but she would have to try.

Her ears began to pick up some gasping and wheezing, the crackle of a healthy fire, and the door opening. Glawardes quickly returned to the kitchen with her herbs, and the sight that greeted her confirmed all of the things she had heard, though she didn't care. The elleth had only minutes left; that much was obvious by the labored, erratic motion of her chest rising and falling.

"Can you heal her?" the raven-headed elleth asked.

"I can treat the symptoms. Now heat the water. Grab some bowls from that cabinet there," Glawardes told the two elves, who had finished their respective duties and were waiting for more instructions. As the familiar elf began to heat the water and the raven-headed elleth brought her the bowls, Glawardes set the herbs down on the table and ran to get some clean cloth.

When she got back, she was greeted with the raven-headed elleth's question, "Do you not have any athelas?"

"No," Glawardes replied impatiently, setting the cloths beside the herbs and filling a bowl with not-yet-hot water. She did not have time for questions. An elleth's life was on the line!

"We have athelas," the raven-headed elleth informed her. Glawardes paused what she was doing and looked at the girl blankly, almost shouting, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I thought that you had some!"

"Go get it! Hurry!"

In no time, a small pouch filled with athelas was beside the other herbs. Glawardes had already ground the yarrow into a powder, added some warm water and honey, mixed it into a paste, and applied the poultice to the unconscious elleth's cut to stop the bleeding. Once she had the athelas, Glawardes began to make a poultice with it, too, and prayed that it would be enough. Athelas might be a miracle herb, but even it had it's limits.

Glawardes cleaned and hurriedly packed the athelas poultice into and onto the long wound. The unconscious elleth didn't show any sign of immediate improvement. The only sound that filled the kitchen were the crackle of the fire and the elleth's wheezing breaths.

"Can't you do more?" the familiar elf asked. Even his voice sounded familiar, like a distant, sweet dream from long ago.

"Everything I know, I taught myself. There is nothing more that I can do. Hopefully, the orcs traded effectiveness for pain when picking the poison," Glawardes informed him.

"What about you, Eldandil?" he asked the raven-headed elleth. Eldandil shook her head and cried softly, "I am not skilled enough. I don't know what to do."

"We wait," Glawardes responded, "and hope that the Valar save her."

Eldandil nodded, staring at her sister, and the familiar elf slowly looked away from the unconscious elleth and towards Glawardes. In her mind, Glawardes thought that she saw hope swelling in the elf's gaze as he asked, "Who are you? What is your name?"

Glawardes hesitated. Should she give away her name? Should she reveal that she was from Mirkwood? No. She would keep it a secret. She couldn't let him know who she was, even if he did look familiar. _Especially_ because he looked familiar.

"The orcs call me Death," she replied with a shrug, hoping a vague answer would deter any further questioning. To help close the conversation, she busied herself in pouring the rest of the water into a large, metal pot and setting it over the fire to boil.

"Surely you were not named that by your family," he pressed. This Mirkwood elf seemed determined to know her original name. That was not good.

"I am called Mist," Glawardes told him honestly after a pause. It was the truth, though there was more to it. She had found a village upon arriving at Swanfleet, and had informed the inhabitants that she was lost. Of course, she had forgotten to tell them in Westron, so they had assumed that her name was Mist, the Sindarin word for lost. Wanting to get rid of her former name, she hadn't corrected them.

The hope visibly left the elf, and he replied dejectedly, "Oh. Sorry, I thought that you could have been… someone else."

 _'_ _Could he really be trying to find me? Maybe they know what I told the orcs. Maybe the orcs had attacked them, and it was my fault, and now they want to punish me,'_ Glawardes thought. Cautiously, she asked as casually as she could, "Who are you looking for?"

"Do you not know?"

"Well… I have had no contact with other elves for a long time, and the only information I get is from the nearby village, so what do you think?" Glawardes answered, keeping the statement indirect. The elf gave her a look and replied sadly, "My mother, the queen of Mirkwood. She has been missing for almost two thousand years now. I miss her."

 _'_ _Is this… Legolas? He is so grown!'_ Glawardes thought, examining the elf. _'Yes, he has gotten big and strong. I wonder if he is part of the Guard? He looks like he could easily fill the role. He's so fit and handsome. All the elleths must swoon over him!'_

At the thought of elleths, Glawardes's attention was drawn back to Eldandil and her sister. Both girls had several nasty scratches and bruises that were sure to be painful, especially the unconscious elleth.

Pushing down the possibility of being in her son's presence, Glawardes focused on helping her guests. It took a while, but soon she had slathered various poultices on all of their wounds, created a warm compress soaked in comfrey root tea for the brown-haired elleth's black eye, and healed two gashes on Eldandil's shoulder, the more recent of which appeared to be poisoned. There had also been two different, deep arrow wounds on Legolas's shoulder and torso, a bleeding laceration on his right side, and his back showed signs of whipping. Legolas had needed some convincing to show Glawardes this, and she was horrified to see it. Her child, treated this way at the hands of the orcs?

Those scum were in for a lot of pain when she faced them again.

But for now, Glawardes was just trying to distract Eldandil from her sister, who had not shown any signs of improvement. This was a hard job, because Eldandil refused to be comforted, instead opting to sit by the kitchen table and cry, her sobs sounding through the whole cottage.

"Ok, get up, dear. You're not doing your sister any good crying like that," Glawardes eventually told her softly, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her up. Tears still rolled smoothly down the elleth's face as Glawardes led her away from the kitchen table and towards a spare room that she had prepared for the girls. It was nothing special, just a pile of hay and padding covered by some blankets, but it would be more comfortable than sleeping on the floor, where Legolas would be, since there was nowhere else to put him.

Glawardes stayed with Eldandil until she ran out of tears to shed, comforting the girl as much as she could. Eldandil shook her head in disbelief, "I didn't think that I could lose her. She's always been the strong one."

"Shh, it's ok. I understand."

"I've lost everyone else. I can't lose her."

"Shh, you won't. She will get better. You'll see."

"But what if she doesn't?" Eldandil asked, turning her sad eyes towards Glawardes. Glawardes frowned, unsure of how to answer. Finally, she replied, "Is there no one else that you have left?"

"Well, I have our younger brother, but he's never around," Eldandil told her, trying to dry her eyes. Glawardes smiled comfortingly, allowing the motherly instincts that had been so long unused to well up inside. She allowed Eldandil to lean against her shoulder as she told the younger girl, "He will need you to be strong, right? Can you do that for him?"

Eldandil nodded but stared blankly ahead. Another fat tear threatened to dampen her cheek. Glawardes wiped it away and murmured, "It is okay to cry, but there is no need yet. Your sister is not dead. She will get better. You'll see."

Eldandil nodded again, though Glawardes wasn't sure if her words had provided any comfort to the girl. It had been almost two thousand years since she had used her motherly skills. Glawardes sat there for a few more minutes before bidding Eldandil a good night and leaving.

Legolas was waiting in the kitchen doorway when Glawardes exited the spare room. He seemed to hesitate, then asked as casually as he could, "Have you, by any chance, seen any other elves pass this way? Like, my mother?"

Once again, Glawardes was faced with the opportunity to reveal herself. Should she? Could she? Her answer remained the same, "No, I have not seen any other elves. You three have been the first company to grace my home."

"Are you sure? You couldn't have forgotten anyone?" Legolas pressed, taking a few steps towards her. The hopeful gleam had returned to his eyes. Glawardes sighed. He was persistent, just like his father. Still, she remained true to her answer, "No. You three are the first."

Again, Legolas's hope visibly seemed to deflate. He looked defeated. Maybe even a little depressed. Glawardes almost told him the truth. She almost confessed. It was on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill forth and give her son a reason to smile. But would he smile? Wouldn't he just scowl and drag her back to Thranduil? Wouldn't he hate her because of what she had done?

She changed the subject, "Who are you? Where do you come from?"

"I am Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. The elleth on the table is Elhadril, and the elleth you escorted to the spare room is her sister, Eldandil," Legolas informed her. Glawardes tried to commit their names to memory, but she was sure that she would get the sisters mixed up. Nonetheless, she continued her questions, "What happened? Why are you here?"

"We were ambushed, and Elhadril was captured," he answered shortly. It was clear that he didn't want to talk. In fact, he almost seemed to be mad at her. Why? He didn't know that she was lying, did he?

Nervous fear rose up inside Glawardes, making her tongue tie and her stomach knot. She hurriedly walked past Legolas and into the kitchen, excusing herself from the situation. She tried to check on Elhadril, but Legolas's gaze followed her every move, burning a hole in the back of her neck. Knowing that concentration was not an option, she silently slipped out the door, trusting that Legolas would seek help if Elhadril suddenly took a turn for the worst.

Instead of climbing up the big oak tree growing next to the house, which she normally did when she needed to think, Glawardes set out to fetch her guests' horse. The mare had been left out to graze, forgotten in the rush to save Elhadril. It was easy to spot her nibbling on the grass since the sunlight was only just starting to fade. Glawardes didn't know the horse's name, but she was a beautiful bay with a black mane. The poor mare had a saddle on her, which Glawardes quickly removed. Even though she had not owned an elf-horse in a long time, she knew that saddles weren't comfortable for them.

Glawardes led the mare to a small building a few feet away from the cottage. It was fixed up, like the rest of the cottage, and was being used as a barn. Like the cottage, the outside was made of hard stone, as was the roof, and the wide doors were made of oak. Everything was made as a defense against the orcs. But unlike the cold outside, the inside of the barn was quite cozy. The floor was covered in hay that she had bought from the village, and the support pillars were wooden. Glawardes had even built a small fireplace in the corner of the room, perfect for warming the single room on freezing nights.

The barn had many inhabitants, few of which had a purpose beyond companionship. There was a calico cat, a family of wild-ish bunnies, a donkey, and a few sheep. Surprisingly, the bunnies were quite safe from the cat. The donkey wouldn't let the feline near them.

Glawardes led the mare to a small hay pile beside the donkey, whose name was Gurveleg. The horse would have plenty of food for the night and was sure to be comfortable. She just hoped that the bunnies didn't get stepped on accidentally. It would be horrible to come back tomorrow and find a little baby dead - or worse, the mother.

Just to be safe, Glawardes crouched down and dug into the dry hay. Something soft brushed against her hand, bolting out of the way. Glawardes's other hand snapped out automatically, snatching the poor creature by instinct. The adult rabbit struggled for a bit before realizing that it wasn't in any danger. Glawardes gently stroked the poor creature, apologizing, "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I only wanted to move you and your children…"

Suddenly, it was too much for Glawardes. She fell silent, stroking the mother rabbit, crying silently to herself. She heaved a shaky breath and choked out, "My child… my little boy… he's here."

The full impact of the situation hit her, bringing with it the sensation of elation and dread. Her baby boy, her little child, had grown up, and he had found her. He was alive and well, and sitting in her house, under her roof again. Glawardes didn't know what to do. She was so happy to see Legolas, half wanting to bombard him with questions about Thranduil and Mirkwood. But she was also frightened that he suspected her, and wanted to get him on his way as soon as possible, which wouldn't be very soon because of Elhadril's injuries…

"You should see him," Glawardes told the rabbit, beginning to ramble in her distress. "He is just like his father, strong and handsome… I bet that he is a part of the Guard, but I am scared to ask. I don't want him to know that it is me. He probably doesn't like me very much, anyway. I wonder if Thranduil thinks of me often. What do you think? If he does, it probably isn't with any love. I gave the orcs all of the information they wanted. I thoroughly and utterly betrayed the ones that I was most loyal to. But still, Legolas… my little green leaf is back. Alas, what am I to do with him? I cannot throw him out. I cannot let him stay long. I want to hug him and kiss his brow, like when he was a child, but I can't. Oh, this is torture! To have your son, whom you have missed and longed for for almost two thousand years, finally find you, and to not have the courage to tell him? It is an agony that plagues the heart. Of course I do not have the courage. It would mean death…"

Glawardes unloaded all her troubles on the rabbit, then sat there in silence for what must have been most of the night. Then she set the mother rabbit down, made sure that the bunnies would not get stepped on, and left for the cottage, navigating her way through the darkness under the moon.

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! So good to see you back! Sorry I didn't post this earlier! I had to go to school, then I had to finish my author's note.. so yeah. And I procrastinated. I have been listening to suggestions and will try to rewrite the dialogue, but keep in mind that this may take a while. Thank you guys so much!**

 **Thanks to _somersset_ , _Helen_ , _Henry MacKintire_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , and _DD_ for reviewing! Seriously, you guys are awesome!**

 **To _Helen_ : Yeah, I know. I'll start working on that soon, but no guarantee when. School started back, and I'm having a hard time just getting the chapters in. Hehe, I'm imagining an elf walking down the street in a tank top with a baseball cap on backwards greeting people, "Peace!" ...Sorry. My imagination needs a leash.**

 **To _Henry_ _MacKintire_ : Oh, I had no idea. Thank you! I hope I'm not in trouble for believing that I owned my characters... Thanks for the review!**

 **To _DD_ : I've been wondering where you were! Good to see that you are alive and well. I'm glad you like them. Uh... flipping a table is a good thing, right? You are welcome, though the wording of some might change because my elvish characters don't talk like elvish characters. Was this chapter good? Was it what you expected?**

 **To _Guest_ : Oh, I'm so sorry! I have no idea how to fix that. Don't feel like an idiot! It's probably a bug that someone will have to code out. In the mean time, thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you can get to the this chapter.**

 **By the way, I may not have next week's up in time. If it is not up on this Monday, then try the next Monday. Sorry, but I have no idea what school will be like. Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 12: Days of the King

King Thranduil sat on his throne, bored as he could be. Since Glawardes's disappearance, his days had often been filled with meaningless boredom, sitting alone on his thornier an empty room, pondering why he was even there. The search party in the Brown Lands had turned up nothing. He was running out of places to search. Soon, he may have to send the parties as far as Rhun or Harad.

 _'_ _Rhun,'_ Thranduil contemplated. _'Yes, I suppose she could be there.'_

As he thought, Thranduil fingered his wife's wedding ring, which he had kept in his pocket since the raid on Gundabad. It gave him comfort, for it was a little piece of her that was still with him. Yet it also tormented him relentlessly, always turning his thoughts towards her capture, the suffering she must have bared, the pain she must have experienced, what he could have done…

With a pained breath, he put the ring back in his pocket. It was best to only dwell on those things for short amounts of time. Plus, it was extremely painful. Thranduil's heart suffered each time his thoughts lingered on his beautiful wife. It was becoming unbearable.

A messenger strode into the throne room, unannounced. This startled Thranduil, although he didn't show it. The messenger must have been new. In one swift glance, he noted that the messenger was from Rivendell. Immediately, his interest spiked, though he remained outwardly placid. Had they received any news about Glawardes? Had Elrond found her? Was she well?

But Legolas was in Rivendell. Why not send Legolas to tell him, instead of a messenger? The prince was due to arrive home any day now. Surely he would want to share the good news with his father? But, then again, he would probably wish to stay by his mother's side, especially if she was ill. Thranduil desperately hoped that the messenger was not going to tell him that she is ill.

"Good King Thranduil," the messenger greeted, bowing slightly. Though Thranduil was annoyed with his entrance, he was intensely wanting to hear what the messenger had to say. He returned the greeting and asked, "What news do you bring from Rivendell?"

"I bring news of Legolas, your son," the messenger answered. Thranduil's heart skipped a beat. Was Legolas ill? Surely he was not hurt? But then again, he _had_ fallen into a thorn bush, so could he have been injured? Thranduil had not lost his son, had he? Or maybe Legolas had run off in search of his mother. The Trollshaws and Ettenmoors were close to Rivendell, so that was very likely. Perhaps he had discovered a clue to her whereabouts.

"What news?" Thranduil calmly inquired, though on the inside he was bursting. The messenger presented a letter to him, and Thranduil accepted it without hesitation. he barely kept his hands from shaking as he carefully opened the letter and read:

Dear Ada,

I regret to inform you that we may be

late coming home. There are a few

things that I feel I must investigate.

We should be arriving within two weeks,

if there is bad weather or orcs, which is

likely.

Sincerely, Legolas

Thranduil reread the letter, searching for anything he may have missed. It was likely that Legolas had found a trace of Glawardes, but surely he would include that in his letter? Maybe it was to prevent such information from falling into the wrong hands, but to leave no hint at all?

Or maybe it had something to do with the two elleths who were traveling with him. Thranduil suddenly wished that he had chosen someone else to accompany Lendir to Rivendell. What could Legolas have possibly discovered? Nothing that would provoke… _caution_ could possibly be hidden in the girl's past, right? Then again, the brown-haired one, Elhadril, seemed slightly too sadistic for an elf sometimes… Perhaps caution should be exhibited.

Thranduil shook his head. What was he thinking? Was his mind really being turned against his own people? It would seem so. He sighed and thought tiredly, _'Something is wrong with my head. Those elleths are loyal and kind. They were born here. They have nothing to hide.'_

What had caused him to think that way? No distrust should be between a ruler and his people; rebellion, chaos, and death would reign. He was losing his mind.

"Something wrong, my lord?" the messenger asked. Thranduil looked up from the letter and blinked. He had forgotten all about the messenger, who was waiting patiently by the door. He blinked again and questioned, "Did Legolas tell you why he would be late?"

"No, my lord."

"Do you know why?" Thranduil pressed. There was a chance, however slight, that the elf had heard something.

"I…," the messenger's voice trailed off and he avoided the Elvenking's gaze. Thranduil's eyes narrowed, and he prompted, "Yes?"

"I heard him - Prince Legolas - mutter something about walking home, though Rivendell has plenty of horses to spare," the messenger hesitantly told him. Thranduil's brow furrowed. Why would he walk back? It would take almost a month to get back. Thranduil's heart suddenly skipped a beat. What if his son encountered a horde of orcs? Without a horse, he would have a difficult time escaping them, and not even the most skilled elven warrior could ward off more than a hundred of that scum.

"Did you hear anything else?" Thranduil asked the messenger smoothly. The messenger shook his head, so Thranduil dismissed him and sent for the Captain of the Guard, who arrived quickly. He bowed and asked dutifully, "How can I serve you, dear Elvenking?"

"Beldir, I need you to send some scouts to escort Legolas, or aid him in any way they can," Thranduil told him. Beldir bowed again in acknowledgement and questioned, "Anything else?"

Thranduil thought for a moment, instinctively putting his hand in his pocket, his fingers automatically seeking his wife's ring. Then he ordered, "Send another search party to Rhun. I have a feeling that she might be there."

"Yes, Elvenking," Beldir replied, somewhat tiredly. Thranduil narrowed his eyes, and the Captain straightened up instantly. But the attitude had been shown and the damage had been done. It was too late to amend things.

"King Thranduil, I didn't mean-" he tried, but Thranduil was already descending from his throne with icy, dangerous calmness. He fixed his gaze on Beldir and inquired softly, "Are you getting tired of searching for your queen?"

Beldir knew better than to answer. It had been dumb of him to use that discreet tone when talking to Thranduil about his wife. He had been a fool to not at least _pretend_ that he was not growing weary of the constant, vain searches. He had been stupid to even _think_ that the lost queen would never be found, even though nearly two thousand years had passed with no clue to her whereabouts.

"Are you unwilling to look for your king's wife?" Thranduil hissed, continuing his slow advance. Beldir tried to defend himself, "My king, I didn't-"

"Silence!" Thranduil commanded, his fierce gaze penetrating the Captain's courage. Belair fell silent again, and Thranduil repeated with a deadly tone, "Send scouts to aid my son, and send a party to search for my wife. I will lead the search party to Rhun, you lead the scouts."

"As you wish, my king," Beldir bowed and waited to be excused. Thranduil ascended to his throne and began fingering with his wife's ring again. Then he murmured, "You may go."

Beldir hurried from the room, only feeling comfortable again after traveling halfway across the palace. Thranduil will do that to a person, no matter how brave they are.

After taking a few moments to steel himself once again, he made his way to the Armory, where he was sure to find many other members of the Guard. When he entered, he counted thirty-two elves, which was less than he expected. Most of the Guard must be patrolling the palace.

Someone, Tingon, noticed the look in Beldir's eyes. Tingon frowned, "We're going on another search."

"Yes," Beldir sighed. He wasn't the only one who was growing weary of the constant searching. Most of the Guard were beginning to openly show contempt at the very thought, though none were senseless enough to show it around their king. If they didn't find Glawardes soon, then there may be mutiny.

"I do not see why we must do this. If we have not yet found her, then we never will," Tingon complained, drawing some murmurs of agreement from the other elves, some of which have never even seen the queen, as they had been born after her disappearance.

But Beldir still remembered, and he would still search for her, if only because he was asked to. He tried to defend his king, "If my wife, Faindis, were lost, I would not spare anything in my search for her."

"That may be true," another elf, Colon, interrupted, "but you do not have a kingdom to lead. None of us are opposed to his affection and concern for his wife, but there comes a point when you must put your people first."

"You are being too hard on him. You knoww that King Thranduil can be very sensitive."

"About as sensitive as a stone," Tingon laughed. A few other elves also found this amusing, but Beldir put his foot down, "Enough! I will not tolerate you speaking of your king in this manner. Tingon, Colon, Aduialdis, and I are being sent to aid Prince Legolas on his journey home. King Thranduil will lead Orneth, Palaneldir, Ethirwen, Henir, and Thalosson to Rhun on another search party. If I hear any more complaints, you will be demoted in rank. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," the elves chorused.

"That is well. Pador, please inform the selected elves of their mission," Beldir commanded. The elf nodded and ran off. Beldir walked swiftly from the room, shaking his head. He hoped that Thranduil would have some luck on this journey, for if they didn't find the queen soon, then he would no longer be able to contain the Guard's impatience.

* * *

 **I am so, so, so, SOOOOO sorry that this is late! I feel horrible! I just wanted to get the Author's note done, and I had to finish the chapter, and I still have to write the next one! By the way, that one will most likely be late. My apologies in advance.**

 **Ok, so on with the reviews! Thanks to _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _bettsam0731_ , _Roxanne_ , _Shadow of Mirkwood_ , and... *runs out of names* Oh, that's everyone. Hurray, four reviews! :D**

 **To _Uruviel Phoenix_ : Yes! Suspense! It shall rule on! You will just have to see... Hmm, yes, I think that you are right. I shall get on that when I can. Don't worry, I nit-pick, too! And yes, I do know that you are English, because I checked out your profile. You really need to ****customize that thing. Last time I checked it, it was blank. Thank you! I'm glad that you like it (and sorry that you had to check three times. Hopefully, you aren't doing it for this one, too!) Well, you can see how well that worked... wait, I did post the last one a week ago, didn't I? Well then... Until we meet again!**

 **To _bettsam0731_ : So do I. Is that bad?**

 **To _Roxanne_ : That is ok. Huh... that is an interesting thing to contemplate. I suppose she was just hiding or laying low. Thanks! Actually, it was sort of accidental, because _I_ kept forgetting that they couldn't see each other and had him nodding away, so I stuck with it. Glad to know that that wasn't unnecessary. Glad to see that someone enjoyed those, too. They will hopefully come in handy later. I think it is because she was the convenient one to kidnap, and then she wouldn't survive much more torture, unlike her sister, so the best thing to do was kill her slowly and painfully. Haha, you shall see...**

 **To _Roxanne_ (again): Eh, grief does that to a person. Hehe, so do I. You have no idea. *leaves to give Glawardes a pep talk* ...Ok, I'm back. Yes, yes it did (and we shall pretend that it is a word). Yes, everything was incredibly convenient, as anything in an escape is. Um... I actually haven't decided yet. I think that we shall both have to wait and see. You don't sound like a fool! Even if you are crazy, which the majority of us are, then that doesn't make you a fool. (Hehe, fool of a Roxanne... sorry). I enjoy long reviews. If you are officially a crazy LotR obsessed idiot, then I AM OFFICIALLY AN INSANE MIDDLE-EARTH OBSESSED NINCOMPOOP! Just saying.**

 **To _Roxanne_ (a third time): That is ok. One unfortunate person couldn't get to the next chapter. I hope he or she found it. I wouldn't call yourself stupid for it. I know, right? Glawardes, get a grip! *gives another pep talk* Your son has spent his whole life looking for you! Your disappearance has deprived him of a normal childhood and his whole life has been dominated by finding you! DON'T MAKE HIS LIFE MEANINGLESS! ... I always dreamed of invoking emotion in my readers... but this... *hides in corner* On the bright side, you just got rid of hundreds of orcs, making Legolas's life easier.**

 **To _Shadow of Mirkwood_ : Yes! It is her! Let's all celebrate! Well, do you think that I'd be writing this if they never knew. That would be a horrible climax. That is ok. If I were reading this, I think that I would have punched a hole in my computer already. Well, you may have to wait, because the next chapter has a good chance of being late.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! Have a great week (or possibly two).**


	13. Chapter 13 Part 1

**I apologize that this is a week late. To be honest, this is not quite finished, but I'm posting what I have so far up until a small time-shift, thus why this is called Part 1. I hope you like it!**

* * *

Legolas awoke to the sound of groaning. He was confused. Where was he? He didn't remember ever being in this room before. Then again, it was still quite dark, and his eyes could not see well in the low lighting. He tried to remember what had happened, but every memory after their escape from the orcs had deserted him. So he laid on the ground in silence for a while, waiting for his memory to return.

At length, he resolved to light a candle and figure out what was making that noise. Upon seeing the room he was in more clearly, his memory of last night's events returned. The mysterious woman named Mist, her cottage, and Elhadril's situation gradually refilled his mind.

Elhadril! Legolas ran into the kitchen, which was adjacent to the room he had slept in. The elf-maiden was emitting low, pained moans, and she was writhing and doubling over in obvious discomfort. Moreover, she had worked her way accidentally to the edge of the table and was in danger of falling off. Legolas had no idea what was happening to her and panicked, shouting, "Mist, make haste! Elhadril has gotten worse! Can you not hear her moan?"

Within a few seconds, Mist had appeared with more herbs, none of which Legolas knew. She ground up some and cut others, placed some on Elhadril's wounds and threw some in water to soak. As soon as the herbs were pressed into her injuries, Elhadril screamed in pain and tried to move away, but Legolas held her down. It was unclear whether or not his friend was conscious.

Eldandil, awakened by her sister's wailing, soon hurried into the kitchen and began to aid Mist, but most of the medical lore was above Legolas's head. He was resigned to do as he was told, which mainly included fetching water, stoking the fire, and holding Elhadril still when her frantic movements became troublesome.

Eventually, Elhadril's writhing and groaning were replaced by steady breathing and a stillness that came with deep sleep, allowing the other three elves to catch their breath. After a few minutes of silence, Mist spoke up, "This is a good sign. She is healing well."

" _That_ was a good omen?" Legolas exclaimed, not believing her. Eldandil patiently explained on the woman's behalf, "She is beginning to wake up. Legolas, this is great news! My sister is not lost!"

Eldandil looked so happy at this event that Legolas didn't have the heart to tell her that if Elhadril felt that much pain when she was waking, she was better off asleep. Mist quickly busied herself with taking stock of her remaining herbs. Legolas watched her earnestly. She had not told the truth when he had inquired about his mother. She knew something, and he was determined to get it out of her.

But before he could speak, she finished her work and informed, "I need more herbs. There is not much feverfew or goldenrod left. We must go to the village tomorrow to buy some more."

"Do you not grow them yourself?" Eldandil asked. Mist shook her head negative and tried to explain, "I am not a gifted farmer. I am a fighter, a shepherd, and, occasionally, a healer."

"You are a shepherd?" Eldandil asked, resulting in a conversation revolving around how Mist made her money and the perks of having her own wool. Legolas listened for a while and learned that Mist sold all of her excess wool at a nearby village for extra money, although most of the villagers give her their products for free because she protected them from orcs. Mist never took more than she needed and took care to treat the villagers in a friendly way, lest they turn against her. She was sure that once the orcs found out that she lived near the village - and even helped protect it - they would launch an attack that she could not defend them from.

While this interested Legolas, it did not hold his attention for long. He abandoned the conversation and walked outside to get some fresh air. The sun was rising, promising another beautiful day without his mother. He sighed and promised himself that he _would_ get Mist to tell him about his mother's whereabouts. In the mean time, he just had to believe that the orcs had lied.

What else could he do? If he believed the orcs, then both he and his father would succumb to grief. Legolas and his father were already grieved, and neither of them would be able to stand it if Glawardes had really died. So it was better, in this instance, to hold onto what might be false.

Seeking to clear his mind of those depressing thoughts, Legolas began to walk through the forest, admiring the trees and wildlife. He could feel his mind calming, becoming more tranquil and relaxed. A soothing walk was just what he needed.

Legolas had just begun to smile at the wonderful scenes around him when one of the more unpleasant creatures that roamed the woods emerge, standing about twenty feet away. It was an orc.

Luckily, it hadn't seen Legolas, giving him enough time to duck behind a tree. What was it doing here? Had it found them?

Cautiously, Legolas scaled the tree, careful to keep his movements quiet and smooth. He could see than there were other orcs accompanying the one he had originally seen, totaling five orcs. Although he was itching to sink a sword into one of their torsos, Legolas didn't have his weapons with him, so he couldn't fight, unless he managed to pry one of their own poorly-made swords from them, but that would certainly give the others enough time to strike him down. And his appearance would certainly alert them that Mist lived nearby, as would their dead bodies if he did managed to slay them. He could do nothing but watch and wait for them to leave, and make sure that they didn't head towards Mist's cottage.

The orcs took their time. They were scouring the area, overturning rocks and shuffling through bushes. They were obviously looking for something, most likely their missing prisoners. Fortunately, the possibility that the object of their search could be hiding in a tree hadn't seemed to occur to them, and if it had then they hadn't seen him through the branches and leaves.

The orcs finally left, heading back towards Tharbad, much to Legolas's relief. All the same, Legolas waited a few minutes to make sure that the orcs truly had left and hadn't turned back to continue their search. Then he ran to the cottage to warn Mist.

When he returned, Legolas found that Elhadril had fully woken and, though she was in pain, was doing well. He was anxious to see his friend, but first he needed to find Mist and inform her of the situation. Of course, she was in the kitchen tending to Elhadril with Eldandil, so he was able to do both.

"Legolas! I am alive!" Elhadril exclaimed upon seeing him. He was startled by how she had greeted him. Usually, it was in a less outgoing, quieter manner. She noticed his confused look and apologized, "Sorry, but I am quite confused about what just happened and where I am, and Eldandil just told me that I almost passed, and I don't know who this other woman is - forgive me if I am impolite - and my whole body aches as if it were experiencing the Valar's wrath, so I am bound to ramble more than I ought… like I am undoubtably doing now. I apologize. Just ignore me. I shall stop in a few seconds."

"Um, very well. I am glad to find that you are well," Legolas responded, turning to Mist. She immediately sensed that something was wrong, and after that assumption was made it was easy to guess what that problem was. She had an even look on her face as she stated more than asked, "The orcs have gotten closer, have they not?"

Legolas confirmed this, and Mist walked out of the room with a contemplating look on her face. Eldandil and Elhadril both looked confused, and the latter asked plainly, "What have I missed? How long have I been asleep?"

Legolas left Eldandil to answer her sister's questions while he went to find Mist. He figured that now was a good time to question her further about his mother, since Mist was alone and likely not doing much. He found her in a building next to the cottage that seemed to behave as a barn. The doors had been thrown open, letting loose some sheep, a donkey, a calico cat, Tinnuroch, and a single rabbit. Legolas ventured inside and found Mist holding another rabbit, resting on the hay. There were four babies snuggled up beside her. The scene was really quite cute and peaceful, but at the same time it had an underlying sense of distress.

"They do not need to stay here, you know," Mist whispered, her eyes never leaving the rabbit. "But these are so young… they will not make it. They have no place to run, but they can not stay."

"Why must they run?" Legolas asked. Mist's eyes became true to her name, and she answered softly, "Because my time here is nearing its end. I must leave ere the orcs discover me. They must find this cottage deserted."

"Why can you not take them with you, if they are unfit to be left alone? Will they not miss you?"

Now Mist was beginning to cry. Legolas was silent for a few moments, then pressed, "My mother was taken from me when I was still young. I miss her terribly. Not a day passes by that I have not thought about her."

Mist made no response, but the amount of tears streaming down her cheeks seemed to multiply. He asked once more, "Do you know what has become of her? Have the orcs killed my mother, or is she alive?"

The internal battle waging inside the she-elf was evident, and it was a while before she seemed to make up her mind. It was a while longer before Mist could answer, "The orcs have destroyed all that you know as your mother. I have no hope of her return."

Legolas could have sworn that a knife had just been plunged into his heart. The orcs would lie to keep his grief present, but why should a respectable elf lie to him? It must be the truth, then. His mother was surely, utterly, and totally lost. After a brief moment of succumbing to building emotions, Legolas quickly excused himself and ran into the woods, seeking solitude. He could no longer bear it. He could no longer hold on to hope.

He needed to find a quiet place to grieve. He needed to find a place where he could forget about his grief. He wanted to run from the realization that he would never see his mother again. He didn't want to know that all those centuries that his father and he had been searching had been wasted. He didn't want anyone to see him cry, which he knew he was about to do.

Eventually, Legolas found himself in a small rock formation in the middle of the woods. He blindly leapt behind the biggest stone and leaned against it, sliding down into a sitting position. He could feel a single tear sliding down his cheek, following the lines of his face. It became harder to breathe, and soon he was almost gasping for oxygen. His throat began to contract painfully, augmenting the hurt he was already feeling. His mouth trembled and stretched, but he made no sound.

And so Legolas sat there, with tears running down his face and body shaking with both immense hate and sorrow. For indeed, his anger and wrath had been stirred against the orcs tenfold. This fiery emotion slowly replaced his depression, filling him wit disagreeable resentment and stubborn determination.

With an expression bordering between emotionless and deadly, Legolas slowly pushed himself onto his feet and started off, heading for Tharbad. It wasn't long before a voice confronted him, "Legolas! There you are. I watched you run into the forest, and I resolved to find out if you are all right."

Legolas didn't even slow down to acknowledge that Eldandil had spoken to him. He just continued his trek to the orc stronghold, forcing Eldandil to either catch up or leave him alone. She chose the former and walked alongside him in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Legolas spoke up, "Do you still have that dagger?"

"I do. May I ask why?" Eldandil replied, holding it out to him. He took it without answering her question. It was a little longer before either of them spoke again, but Eldandil's eyes suddenly widened with worry and she grabbed his arm, stopping him, "You aren't… going to Tharbad, are you?"

Legolas made no comment and started walking again, which was answer enough. Eldandil struggled to keep up with him as he doubled his pace, protesting, "You can't go to Tharbad! It's a death wish! The orcs will kill you!"

"Then so be it! They have already felled my mother, why not me? I would rather die fighting them."

"But you must not! What of your father? He will not be able to bear the loss of both his loved ones. What would become of him? And what would become of Mirkwood?"

For this, Legolas was silent. He had no answer, and Eldandil was beginning to make him feel guilty. Nevertheless, he kept walking.

"There is more to think about than yourself, Legolas," Eldandil told him. Then she seemed to register something else that he had said, "Do you seriously believe what that orc filth told you? Elhadril informed me that she believes he was lying. It makes sense, really."

"Perhaps he would lie, but would another elf? Mist finally told me of my mother's fate. She is gone."

This made Eldandil stop talking for a while, but soon she again tried, "Legolas, your father will not want to be informed that both his son and his wife had been slaughtered by orcs."

"I know," Legolas replied after a period of silence. He had stopped walking and hung his head slightly, staring at the ground ahead of him. Eldandil put a hand on his shoulder and suggested patiently, "Let's go back."

"All right."

So they turned around and headed back to the cottage.

* * *

 **So, I'm back, and a week late. I would have actually finished this chapter, but I had to write an essay for Honors Physical Science, and that took up my WHOLE WEEKEND! Ugh! But now I have at least this much done, and I really didn't want to be three weeks late, so here's what I have. I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Oh, and before I forget, I will always update on Monday. That will save you the trouble of having to check for an update every day.**

 **Thanks to _DD_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Roxanne_ , and _Shadow of Mirkwood_ for reviewing! Seriously, it means a lot! Also, I think that I have been forgetting to do this, but I'll respond to everyone's review with a PM - except the guests, of course. Their's will be listed below.**

 **To _DD_ : I'm glad that you are happy! Yes, they are in a bit of a hole, aren't they? Haha, that's called DRAMA! :D It's how you get emotion from people. I look forward to your next ****review!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Well, metaphorically... or theoretically... or whatever word I'm trying to use, yes. Oh, well I'm glad that you found it! Yeah, that gets really, really annoying. I used to review on my phone, too, but now I have a computer! YAY! Great, I love throwing curveballs. I figured that it would be nice to have Thranduil's POV again, since we hadn't in a while. I'm glad I did, too, because now I have something planned... ;) Well, I figured that since they are immortal, they would be more patient than us. Now you can stop wondering, because SHE LIVES! Out of curiosity, what would you have done if I had killed her? That's ok, I forgive you. *wonders why forgiveness is necessary* I LOVE your long reviews. It reminds me of myself, because I would write a long review like yours, then write another one because I forgot something, then another... then another to apologize... yeah... I rant too much to care if you stay that much on topic. X)**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Hello again. *gasp* IT WAS WORTH A REREAD! Yay! Thranduil was intimidating? *does happy dance* Now my life is made. Not even the Nazrul could rival us? Hmm... Sauron, you have some competition. Haha, anyway, do you want to give Thranduil a hug? He probably needs one... but then again he'd probably glare at anyone who tries. Yeah, I wouldn't wish that on anyone, but I am the recorder of the story, not the author (blame my brain for that). Is that what it's called? *sounds out word* SOCIAL LIFE. What is it, precious? What is it? I'm glad that you are experiencing feels, but don't die from it! Then you won't read the rest of this chapter! Give them courage and hope? Ok. *hands Legolas, Glawardes, and Thranduil cookies***

 **To _Roxanne_ : Haha, short _er_. It's fine, really. I like your reviews. What do you mean "finally?" Didn't you give him a pep talk at some point? Maybe... but they multiply like flies... Well, this still has a way to go, so don't fret over the end yet. No, not mental help. Well, let me take hat back... yes, you need mental help, but not for that reason. XD Just messing with you. If anything, I need mental help for making them go through this and hating how they suffer.**

 **Ok, so... What was I going to ask...? Oh right, was the dialogue better? I've been trying to work on it (not that I really had the time, but still). Also, I didn't have time to proofread this, so please inform me of any errors you see. And... there was something else... yes, I will post the next half as a separate chapter (part 2) and then combine them later. Thanks! Have fun reading!**


	14. Chapter 13 Part 2

"…Why me?" Legolas heard Elhadril ask as Eldandil and he quietly entered the cottage. From the sound of it, Mist and Elhadril had been talking for a while. Legolas entered the kitchen in time to hear the older she-elf reply, "I suppose it is because the orcs love torture, and you would not survive much more of it. Your kin, however, was relatively unscathed, so she was probably their prime target for torturing, which began by watching her sister being injured and nearly slain."

"I suppose… Oh, hello Legolas and Eldandil. How do you fare?" Elhadril asked, fixing her eyes on the pair as they entered the room. Mist whirled around, startled, but quickly regained her composure. Legolas wasn't entirely sure why their presence had startled her, but he supposed that she had been caught up in the conversation.

"Uh, Legolas? What troubles you?" Elhadril asked, a cautious look on her face. He sighed, knowing that no one would believe him if he told her that nothing was amiss, especially after he told Eldandil and because Mist probably already knew. He stayed silent for a time, trying to gather his voice. Elhadril grew increasingly worried at his silence, "Legolas?"

"My-" Legolas's voice cracked, and he struggled to control it.

"My nana… She is-" he tried again, failing a second time. He took some deep breaths, determined not to mourn in front of his friends. Elhadril gave him an encouraging smile, "Yes?"

"She is gone. Forever," Legolas finally managed to spit out. Elhadril stared at him earnestly now, "Are you certain? How did you receive this information? You surely did not receive this news from a lying orc."

"I told him," Mist spoke up, hanging her head. Legolas barely heard her because all of his grief was coming back. He stared at the floor, determined to appear strong and emotionless like his father, but he couldn't help it. He had failed. He had one job, one real task that he had strived to complete all his life, and he failed. How would he tell Thranduil?

"Oh, Legolas, I am grieved by this news. You have my complete sympathy," Elhadril told him. He could only nod and at length voiced his sorrows, "I have failed. I have failed Ada. I have failed Mirkwood. I have failed myself. But most of all, I failed to bring my nana home. Now she is gone."

"It's not your fault," Eldandil comforted, but to no avail. Legolas was deeply and emotionally affected by this. Up until this point, there had always been the possibility that his mother was alive. There had always been some sliver of reasonable hope, but now there was nothing. He shook his hope, "It does not matter who is at fault. She is gone."

Everyone was silent for a long time, partly to grieve or reflect this new tiding and partly because everyone wanted to give Legolas some peace. Finally, Mist spoke, "Noon is nigh. We must journey to the village to buy more herbs."

"What of Elhadril? She must rest," Legolas told her firmly. There was no way he was going to lose his friends, not after this.

"Then stay and guard the house," Mist replied simply, grabbing a small sack of wool from a cabinet. "Eldandil may accompany me."

"No. Eldandil will stay. I will come," Legolas argued. He felt that they were safer here, and he wasn't sure if he trusted Mist now that he knew she had initially lied to him. But she wouldn't hear of it, "If you seek to behead orcs, you will not do it in the village. If they are as close as you tell me, then you have a better chance of meeting them here."

Well, in that case, Legolas would stay here to protect one of his friends instead of leaving them both unguarded. Besides, Mist seemed to be able to do more than hold her own against hordes of those fell beings. Eldandil would be safe, right?

"I need a weapon," Legolas pointed out, realizing that a knife would not help much against a large-scale attack. Mist looked around and grabbed a sword and a bow, giving him the latter. She then handed Eldandil a cloak, putting her own on and asking Legolas, "Have you been practicing?"

"Every day," Legolas nodded, again remembering his mother. He had practiced for her, so he could save her and make her proud. He quickly shook his head, clearing away the threat of crying again. Now was not the time.

"Are you prepared?" Mist asked Eldandil, who nodded her response. Then the older elf, sack of wool slung over her shoulder and sword tied to her belt, left the cottage with one of Legolas's best friends, leaving him to wonder if he had made the right decision.

* * *

 **I know, I know, short chapter. Just remember that this was a continuation of last week, and at least I posted it on time! I really meant to make this longer, but this was the best place to stop, so I'm sorry!**

 **Also, I have a poll on my profile page asking which fanfic I should do next. You can select up to two fandoms, and right now the poll is tied. Thanks!**

 **Well, my** **gratitude goes to _Shadow of Mirkwood_ , _Roxanne_ , and _Uruviel Pheonix_ for reviewing! Really, the support means a lot, guys!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : I think that I was on top of that. In fact, I was so on top of that that I posted the chapter before you asked. :) I think that you need your phone checked on, though...**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Hahaha, yes, I figured. :) Did you really like it? And hate it, too? Yay, that moment when you cause conflict within your readers! Oh, you cried? Uh... there, there... it will be ok... maybe... I think... probably... Anyway, I'm glad that you hate Glawardes a little less. I didn't want her to be unlikable. A bit confused, maybe, but not unlikable. Me, too. It wouldn't have ended well for Legolas if he had kept going. At best, he would be tortured until Glawardes came and saved him, giving up her life in the process and with her dying breath admitting that she was his mother, leaving Legolas and Thranduil to grieve all over again. *wraps Legolas in bubble wrap* Let's not let that happen. Hm, what made Elhadril talking more pleasant? Just curious. Ok, let's not make you crazier than you already are. :) I like reading long reviews, so that works out great. Maybe she will, maybe she won't. :) Really? Good, my first phase of world domination is complete... :D Yes, we shall see...**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Yes. Oh my goodness, yes he does! Thranduil: But then who would respect me? Me: Probably a lot of people. Oh, you don't think so? ... Yep, that sounds like him! :D Same! I keep drawing a blank when I try to find the appropriate words to use! It's so frustrating! Yeah, I have a feeling that if my characters were real, they would hunt me down and murder me. That's not a happy thought, actually... Anyway, I'm glad that you love it!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Thank you!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : You have a very, very valid point. I think that our characters need it more, though!**

 **Well, thanks for reading this far! See you next Monday!**


	15. Chapter 14: Old Friends and New Enemies

**Just so you know, the underlined words are actually Westron. The non-underlined words are Sindarin.**

* * *

 _'_ _I failed to bring my nana home,'_ Legolas' voice rang in Glawardes' head. What did he mean by that? Surely he was not mourning _her_ , was he? He had seemed extremely upset when Glawardes had told him, and it had given her unimaginable pain to see him cry, but he was only disappointed because he would never bring her back to Mirkwood for a trial, right? It was not possible for him to mourn the death of such a traitor, was it?

"When will we arrive?" Eldandil asked from behind Glawardes. They had been walking for half an hour. Glawardes chuckled, "I have not known such an impatient elf for a very long time."

 _'_ _Legolas was the last one,'_ her mind reminded her, but she pushed the thought aside as Eldandil quickly defended herself, "I am usually more patient, but I had expected us to be there by now."

"We will arrive in a few minutes," Glawardes assured her, but her mind had already begun to wander back to Legolas. What was it that he had said earlier? _'My mother was taken from me when I was still young. I miss her terribly.'_ Could it be possible that he didn't know that she had betrayed them? Was it even feasible that her son still loved her, as she still loved him? In that case, it was fortunate that Glawardes had told him that his mother had died, for now he would quit looking for her. Maybe he would settle down and raise a family. Glawardes both sobbed and laughed as she thought, _'Perhaps I will have grandchildren someday. But I will not see them.'_

Glawardes abandoned such depressing thoughts, composed herself, and led Eldandil into the village, pulling the hood of her cloak farther over her face. She never knew what sort of people would be passing through the quiet little hamlet, but she always wanted to be on the safe side. She glanced behind herself to make sure Eldandil was still following, only to discover that she had gotten sidetracked watching the baker, an older man named Saradoc, knead bread dough. Glawardes sighed and warned, "Stay close to me. Don't get distracted."

"Hm?" Eldandil mumbled, snapping out of her daze. But Glawardes just turned around and continued walking, forcing the younger elf to pay attention and catch up. She made her way straight to the spinner's shop, where she usually sold her wool. Inside, a pretty young girl of about eighteen welcomed Glawardes in Westron, "Good morning, madam. What may I do for you?"

"I am here to sell my wool, Cadi," Glawardes answered simply. Cadi, who had not looked directly at Glawardes for the first time and smiled, "Good day, Mist. I will fetch Modron for you."

"What is happening, Mist?" Eldandil asked as Cadi disappeared into an adjacent room. Glawardes gave the elf maiden a quizzical look, "Do you not speak Westron?"

"I do not. Elhadril knows a little, but I never thought of learning it."

Glawardes shook her head, but said nothing. It wasn't necessary for Eldandil to learn Westron. They were going to leave anyway, and Glawardes was going to journey far, far away from her past life. Perhaps she would venture south of Gondor. The merchants always say that Harad is nice this time of year.

Modron, an older lady with white hair and coarse hands from a life of spinning and weaving, soon shuffled into the room, leaning on a walking stick. She smiled warmly at Glawardes, like she had known the elf her whole life, and Glawardes smiled back. In fact, the old woman had known Glawardes longer than anyone else in the village.

"It is nice to see you one last time, Mist," Modron greeted in a gravelly voice. Glawardes's smile grew, "Have you already guessed my purpose?"

Modron chuckled, "I am one hundred and two years old, my friend, though I know that you elves do not keep an account of age. I am the oldest in the village, and I have known you the longest. You have a certain look in your eye, like you have seen something. It haunts you."

"You know me too well, old friend," Glawardes responded admiringly.

"Why do you call me old? You are the older one," Modron protested jokingly. Then she turned more serious, and her wrinkled face lifted with another knowing smile as she stated, "He has found you. You continue to flee from your past."

"Yes. My son has found me," Glawardes acknowledged. Modron had always had this gift of being able to tell exactly what was happening to people. Glawardes still couldn't figure out how she did it, but she suspected that this time the old woman's educated guess was based on Eldandil, who was looking a little lost and really confused.

"What of the orcs? Without you, many will fear that they will return, and they may be proven right. What will we defend ourselves with?" Modron asked, tilting her head to the side. Glawardes shook her head and avoided her friend's gaze, not knowing what to tell her. After a few moments of silence, Glawardes felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned to find a very unsure Eldandil, who quietly asked, "Are you finished? What did she say?"

Glawardes shook her head again to tell Eldandil that the conversation was not over, then focused back on Modron, answering, "I know not how you will defend yourself, but I believe that the orcs would harm you more if they found me here. I must leave, for the wellbeing of the village as well as my own."

"Very well then," Modron sighed. Then she began to shuffle back into the adjacent room, beckoning, "Come, come. You must eat. Cadi has made delicious cheese from young Garnoc's goats, and Cadarn sold to us some beef that Caradoc has been preparing this whole morning, though I think that Cadi may have convinced him to make soup instead…"

Eldandil tapped Glawardes' shoulder again as Modron's voice faded into the next room and asked again, "What is happening?"

"We will eat with her and her grandchildren," Glawardes answered, quickly following her friend so that Eldandil wouldn't ask too many more questions. Modron slowly led the two elves through the adjacent sewing/knitting/weaving/spinning room and into the kitchen, where Cadi was placing clay bowls and cups on a wooden table and a sturdy young man of about twenty was filling each bowl with steaming soup. Modron turned back to Glawardes and exclaimed, "Oh, Mist, I had forgotten the burden that you carried! Give the wool to Caradoc. He will put it in the spinning room for you. I shall pay you after lunch."

At the sound of his name, the young man put aside the soup and kindly took the bag of wool from Glawardes, who had also forgotten about her own burden. Glawardes noticed him stare at Eldandil for half a second, causing alarms to go off in her head. But by the time she diverted her full attention to him, Caradoc had recovered himself and continued on to the spinning room. He was back in a few moments, by which time everyone had been seated.

Glawardes found it difficult to be a part of the conversation while watching Caradoc, who was in turn stealing glances at Eldandil. Eldandil did not help matters, for she kept stealing glances at him, and would openly smile whenever their eyes met. Modron noticed, too, "Tell me, Mist, what the name of your friend is. I do not believe that you have introduced us yet."

Glawardes wasn't sure where Modron was going with this, but she complied, "This is Eldandil. You must forgive her silence, for she does not speak Westron."

Eldandil perked up as she heard her name, but she clearly wasn't sure what the formalities were. Glawardes tried to hide her amused smile as Eldandil sort of awkwardly waved to everyone, her pale skin turning pink. Modron bowed her head in greeting, Cadi waved back kindly, aware that Eldandil was obviously embarrassed, and Caradoc almost forgot to do anything, so lost was he in Eldandil's eyes. Glawardes studied him with growing alarm. The young man was innocent enough, but no good ever came from such relationships.

"Eldandil," Glawardes addressed, knowing that she had to finish the introduction properly, "this is Modron and her grandchildren, Cadi and Caradoc."

Eldandil bowed her head to each person as he or she was introduced, and with slight horror did Glawardes observe that the younger maiden's eyes met with Caradoc's and held for a moment longer than they needed to. Modron saw this, too, and took action, "Caradoc, dear, would you please make a fire? I am getting quite cold in the evenings."

"But my dear grandmother, it is the middle of summer! And the noon, at that."

"I would like some tea, too, while you are standing," Modron added with a teasing smile. Caradoc did as he was asked, throwing Eldandil a playful "see what I have to live with" look. Though Eldandil clearly had no idea what Modron had told him to do, she understood his expression and giggled. Glawardes shook her head and decided to talk to Eldandil afterwards.

"Cadi has been practicing her Sindarin," Modron bragged, dragging Glawardes out of her thoughts. She raised an eyebrow at the teenager, who hurriedly corrected her grandmother, "I have not been practicing as much as I should have! Really, I am not very good."

"Nonsense! I can not understand a word you are saying anymore! You are far better than I," Modron praised fondly, earning a sheepishly proud blush from Cadi. Glawardes smiled encouragingly, "Speak. I am certain that Eldandil would enjoy the company, for she has no one to speak to."

"Uh, if you insist," Cadi told them, looking a bit scared. "Welcome. I am pleased to meet you."

"You know Sindarin?" Eldandil asked, astonished and relieved. "So do I! Well, obviously. I _am_ an Elf. Your name is Cadi, correct? It is a pretty name. What does it mean?"

Cadi, however, was wondering what any of those words Eldandil had just uttered meant. She couldn't understand the poor girl, so Glawardes laughed and told Eldandil, "She does not know much. She has only begun to learn. Do not frighten her with big words."

"I apologize! Did I honestly frighten you? Forgive me! My mouth has grown large indeed, for I talk too much when I should only say a little," Eldandil told Cadi. Glawardes and Modron left the two of them to figure out how to communicate while they discussed more important matters. Modron began quietly, "When will you leave us? Where did you tell me that you were going?"

"I will leave as soon as I am able," Glawardes answered. "A friend of my son is ill, so it will be a few days until I will allow them to leave. Then I shall head south, towards Harad."

"You can not leave so soon. What of the village? The villagers will not welcome this news."

"The village is the least of my worries. If I am not careful, then the orcs will catch me when my guard is down. Then they may punish the village. What then would the villagers do? Surely, they would welcome those tidings less!"

"Mist, these are dangerous waters you tread," Modron warned. "One false turn would lead to the ruin of us all."

"I understand. I wish that there was more that I could do to aid you, but I feel as if leaving would be the best choice for us all."

"Very well," Modron resigned. "But you may do one more thing to aid us. Stay for an extra week. Train our men to defend themselves. Then the villagers will be more willing to watch you go."

"My dear friend, what has blinded your reasoning?" Glawardes protested. "Each day brings with it the possibility of being discovered by the orcs. If they find me in the village, there will be no man, woman, or child that will escape their wrath. There will no longer be a village to protect."

"There are many places to hide," Modron countered. "The villagers will protect you, and your son if he remains here. You will be safe."

Glawardes hesitated. The orcs could cause some serious problems in the village, with or without her presence. She had no doubt that the villagers were capable of defending themselves, but to learn in just a week… She shook her head, "I am unsure… To learn how to defend a village within a week is difficult. To learn how to defend it properly is impossible."

"Then stay longer," Modron urged. Glawardes couldn't ignore the pleading in her friend's eyes. She was obviously desperate for the assured safety of her people, and Glawardes could relate to that. She had been a queen, after all.

"As you wish, Modron. I shall stay a week," Glawardes replied after a few minutes of careful thought. The old lady let out an audible sigh of relief, then she thanked Glawardes heartily and honestly. Glawardes shook her head. What had she just agreed to? The orcs were going to find her. She just knew it.

Modron handed Glawardes some coins to pay for the wool, though she suspected that the old woman had smuggled a few extra into the small pouch. But Glawardes was going to need the money, so she didn't complain. Instead, she collected Eldandil, who had been reduced to using hand motions as she tried to communicate to Cadi, and they both took their leave.

"Where do we go now?" Eldandil asked, walking alongside Glawardes. Glawardes smiled, "Where we have been intending to go this entire time. We must buy herbs."

"Oh. I knew that," Eldandil told her.

"You lie."

"Perhaps…," Eldandil laughed innocently. Glawardes also laughed, but quietly. She led Eldandil into a small shop on the other side of the village and was greeted by a tanned woman in her early fifties, who was called Heled. Heled immediately grabbed some comfrey, marigold, goldenrod, thyme, basil, and poppy seeds, put each item in separate pouches, and smiled broadly at Glawardes, "Will that be all, Mist? Or shall you finally change your order?"

"You know me a little too well," Glawardes smiled back, pulling out a few coins. Heled shrugged, "You buy the same herbs each visit. Are there any more that you may want? What about those niphredil flowers? Rare those are. Came from the other side of the Misties, in elvish lands. I thought that you might like them."

Glawardes turned around to see Eldandil staring intently at some white blossoms. Then the younger elf turned towards her, "May we please buy one? Please? I will make up for the trouble."

"No, we may not. Actually, I may need some yarrow and comfrey root," Glawardes answered, turning back to the woman. Heled obeyed quickly, questioning, "And why would you need those?"

"It is time for your men to learn to defend themselves," was all Glawardes said as she grabbed each pouch of herbs. Heled was silent for a moment, lost in thought. Then she quickly agreed with an excited smile, "Yes, I believe that you are right."

"Of course I am right," Glawardes teased, paying for the herbs and exiting the shop. She looked back only to make sure that Eldandil was still following her. The young maiden looked extremely disappointed at not being able to buy the flowers, and Glawardes couldn't help but wonder why. What made them so special?

Glawardes was about to ask why when a girl about Cadi's age roughly bumped into Eldandil, almost causing her to fall over. Eldandil immediately tried to apologize even though the girl couldn't understand, but the girl just glared at her hatefully. Glawardes didn't understand, "Why do you look at her as if she has wronged you, Sarf?"

"Perhaps because she has," Sarf replied. Her face wrinkled in disgust as she stared at Eldandil, who was clueless as to what Sarf was saying and what had happened. Sarf shook her head, "Stay away from him. He's mine. Do you really think that he would love someone as hideous as you?"

"I can't understand you," Eldandil tried to tell her, using her hands to illustrate her words. It was clear that the elleth was hurt by Sarf's tone and glare, but she still didn't know how she deserved it. Sarf grinned evilly, "You are stupid as well, then. No, he could not care for you. Why must I worry?"

"Why do you say such evil words? Who do you speak of?" Glawardes demanded, stepping in between the two girls. Sarf practically growled, "You should know. Caradoc. I have just spoken to him. This wretch would do best to stay away from him."

And with that, Sarf stuck her nose in the air and walked off. Glawardes shook her head. What a way for Eldandil to see the village for the first time. At least everyone else was friendly. Perhaps a little too much, in some cases…

"She said that you were very beautiful, and she is jealous of you," Glawardes told Eldandil, largely ignoring the confrontation and walking on. She had told the truth, for that had been the meaning of Sarf's angry speech. Eldandil nodded and smiled, but her eyes lacked their usual spark of energy. The hateful glares and piercing tone had done their work.

Fortunately, the two elves were out of the village before any other incident could occur. They headed back to the cottage, walking in silence and left to wonder about what had happened.

* * *

 **Hello again. Guess what? This is a full chapter, and it's on time! :D Am I the only one excited here?**

 **Ok, so my thanks goes to _Uruviel Pheonix_ , _DD_ , _Roxanne_ , and _Shadow of Mirkwood_ for reviewing! You guys provide the encouragement I need to continue writing!**

 **To _DD_ : Thank you so much! You don't know how happy it makes me to hear about how much you like it! Oh, how was Florida? I keep wondering where you wander off to. Really? Awesome! Well, here is some more. I hope that you enjoyed it!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Ugh, Mondays... *shiver* I hope that you didn't mind. I was really disappointed with it's length, but at least it was something. Many people are probably angry with her, including myself sometimes. Hahaha, yeah probably. I mean, they did come from our imagination, which is about the strangest thing God created. ****Nooooo! Poor Faramir! :( Me, too. I also wanted to murder Denethor. No, probably not. Except for Thranduil. He might thank you. Oh boy, give me a second. I have it written down somewhere... It means "sunlight/** **radiance." I'm glad that you picked up on the fact that all these names have meanings. I could tell you everyone else's, too, if you remain curious. Haha, I won't judge! Hope you like the chapter!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Shoot, Roxanne! I was about to put up the chapter before I went to school! Oh well. XD Funny how things work. Um, you might want to get on that. Really? Wow, well aren't you lucky? What instrument do you play? Oh, so it is a boy... ;D**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Oh, so just a confirmation that she was all right. Ok, now I get it.**

 **Well, somehow I managed to still get this up before school. No, wait, none of my words underlined. NOOOOOOO! Well, now it should be fixed. I hope. Have fun reading, everyone! :)**


	16. Chapter 15: Attack on the Cottage

Legolas and Elhadril were having a pretty good conversation. Mist and Eldandil had been gone for maybe an hour, and Legolas had no idea when they were going to return, so he had positioned himself by the window to scout for trouble, bow in hand. Elhadril chatted away calmly, talking about the birds in the trees or the baby rabbits that Eldandil had told her about. Occasionally, she would try to stand up, leaning on the table to keep her balance. Legolas was always quick to tell her to lay down. He wasn't a healer, so he wanted to stay safe.

He was by the window again after telling Elhadril for the umpteenth time that she needed rest. He stared through the trees, wondering what Mist and Eldandil were doing. It was then that he spotted a glimpse them: orcs.

Legolas looked again, not believing his eyes until he spied an ugly head through the trees. Yes, orcs. Five of them, coming this way from the direction of Tharbad. They were still far, far away and seemed to not know that the cottage laid in their path, but Legolas knew that he had to act fast. Elhadril sensed the sudden change in his mood and stiffened, asking, "What do you see?"

"Orcs," Legolas answered, he raised his bow and aimed for the closest orc, but Elhadril stopped him, "When they fail to return, the other orcs will know that they have found her. It would not be hard to find this place. Let us leave quickly, before they arrive."

"They are moving fast."

"Then we must make haste."

"We do not know where the village is."

"We will not head towards the village. The orcs may pick up our trail."

Legolas couldn't think of many more points to argue with, and the orcs were getting dangerously close. He backed away from the window and helped Elhadril stand, asking, "Can you walk?"

"Yes. I only need to stay balanced, I think," she answered. And with that, Legolas put her arm around his shoulder and tried to take most of her weight, since it was very obvious that she had exaggerated her ability to hold herself upright. They made their way out of the house and headed away from the orcs as fast as they could.

They had just barely made it past the barn or stable or whatever it was where Mist had kept her animals when Elhadril suddenly stopped, catching Legolas off-guard. She quietly asked, "What is going to happen to the cottage?"

"The orcs will likely burn it," Legolas replied, grabbing her arm and trying to get her to move again. The orcs were close enough to see the cottage now. No doubt that they were running towards it with vigor, leaving the two elves with less time to get away.

"But it is built of stone!" Elhadril protested, allowing Legolas to pull her a few steps away from the dwelling. Legolas shook his head, "The interior is not. Why must you care? We shall burn with the cottage if we do not run."

Legolas escorted Elhadril farther into the surrounding woods, but then the elf maiden freed her arm and ran back towards the cottage the best she could in her weaker state, hurriedly yelling over her shoulder, "The rabbits will die!"

Legolas could only stare after her for a moment, shocked that she was going to risk her life for a few baby rabbits and their mother. Then he charged after her. There was no way that he was going to allow her to kill herself for a few animals.

Despite the fact that he was faster than her because of her inability to move effectively, Elhadril still beat him to the small, stone barn due to her head start. He dashed in behind her, closing the heavy oak door behind him and bolting it. He was surprised that Mist had build a bolt into the door.

"Why did you bolt it? We need to run!" Legolas heard Elhadril ask from behind him. He turned and found that the elf maiden was carrying the mother rabbit in one hand and was holding the edge of her tunic in the other, creating a makeshift basket that the babies were snuggled up in. She swayed while she stood, having a bit of trouble standing, but Legolas was glad to see that her strength was coming back.

"No, we can no longer run. The orcs-" Legolas stopped talking. They had both heard it: gruff voices and heavy footsteps, the scraping sound of crudely made swords sliding out of its sheath, and the crash of furniture and pots as the cottage was being pillaged and destroyed. Elhadril's face turned white with fright, and Legolas motioned for her to be quiet. They both felt like children hiding in a closet, caught in a deadly game of hide-and-seek without an escape route.

But they had to escape. Somehow, there had to be an escape. He could still shoot the orcs, but if they barged into the barn all at once? He would still be able to kill a few, but to kill all of them would require speed not even Legolas had.

Legolas looked around the room while Elhadril just focused on not panicking. Therefore no windows that they could crawl through and no back doors that would allow them to escape unnoticed. The only other opening was the thin chimney.

Deciding that their options were limited, Legolas motioned for Elhadril to come with him. They would have to try to climb up the chimney. Elhadril gazed quizzically at the fireplace, then her eyes widened as she realized what Legolas was implying. She mouthed, "Climb up?"

Legolas nodded, not too happy about the idea either. But they would have to try. He motioned for her to put the rabbits down because she could not climb with them, but she shook her head and simply handed him the mother rabbit. It was settled, although Legolas was not happy about it at all.

Legolas slung his bow over his shoulder, wedged himself into the chimney, and began to climb. He needed to make sure that it was possible to climb and safe to emerge. Even with the rabbit in his hand, he managed to quickly climb to the top and hide behind the chimney. Elhadril was next, and she was having a lot more trouble than he was. It took a lot longer for her to reach the middle, and by that time she was shaking. She looked up at him with pleading eyes that seemed to say, "I can't do this."

Legolas reached with his free hand, trying to help her up. She braced herself against the walls and stretched her free hand towards his while keeping the baby bunnies safely balanced in her lap. Just a few more inches and he could haul her up…

There was an unexpected, loud _whack_ , followed by the sound of splintering wood. The orcs had broken into the barn. Elhadril started and lost her footing. Time slowed as she began slipping back down the chimney. Her eyes met his, a look of utter panic on her face. Legolas dropped the mother rabbit and made one last lunge for her outstretched hand.

* * *

 **Hi, everyone! When I said that I would be updating on Mondays, I really meant that I would update only on Mondays, not that I would update the next Monday. Sorry for not specifying that, _Roxanne_. But, it's up now. To be honest, I really didn't like this chapter as much as the others. Elhadril just seemed a lot more helpless than I meant her to be (although that poison is still wearing off). Also, CLIFFHANGER!**

 **Thank you for reviewing, _Guest_ , _Roxanne_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Shadow of Mirkwood_... and _Roxanne_ again. :) Really, guys, it means a lot!**

 **To _Guest_ : I'm glad that you like it. I wish that I had known that you didn't have to have an account to get story alerts; it would have made my life so much easier! Well, I shall carry on. ONWARD!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : I know, right? She loves... oh boy, what's his name... you know who I'm talking about. Haha, just wait until she sees Legolas! (I'm still debating what to do in that situation, but I have Sarf all planned out otherwise). You aren't supposed to like her. Hmm... well, Elhadril means Faithful Elf-woman, and Eldandil means Elf-friend. Who else's names would you like to know? Cool. I (more proudly) play the French Horn, although it sadly is not played by anyone in Middle Earth. Wow, I can't believe that Elhadril made such a great impression on you when she was unconscious. :) Woah... how much time do you spend on the internet?! Haha, i actually need to delete a bunch of tabs, myself. Really? I don't think that they are allowed internet access in the Hunger Games, plus that might mean that you would die due to lack of attention... You know what, that's a great idea. Actually, I think that I would just want to spray him with bear repellant (super pepper spray), then throw him in. Haha, you are more scared of Thranduil and me than Morgoth? Too bad this fanfic isn't in the First Age. :)**

 **To _Roxanne_ : The irony of that is that you will no longer get to read my fanfic on your phone if it is destroyed.**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Yeah... sorry about that... I updated now, though! Please don't hurt me! *hides behind Glawardes* Well, not too much crazier anyway. I meant that I would update on a Monday, as opposed to a Wednesday or Friday or some other day. Haha, calm down! :) *gasp* I WANT TO READ THAT! Please please please please?! Oh, thank you. Haha, well, I'm glad that you know so many brilliant people. Yes, praise God, because He constructs all good in our lives. And I hope that your life continues to be great.**

 **Please review! I don't really ask that as much as some others (at least I don't think that I do), but it really is encouraging.**


	17. Chapter 16: Fire Causes Tension

Legolas managed to grip Elhadril's wrist, barely keeping her and the baby bunnies from falling into the hands of the orcs. They could both hear their gruff shouts: "The scum is not here!"

"Check the hay!"

"Burn it!"

"Death must be here! Find the scum!"

"Burn the hay!"

"Yes, let Death burn!"

"Burn it! Grab the torches!"

"Let us burn the other house, too!"

"Burn the elf!"

"The prisoners might be here!"

"Then let them burn! Kill the elf-scum!"

As the orcs bickered, Legolas began to carefully haul Elhadril up to the top of the chimney. Elhadril did what she could to help by kicking the wall, accidentally sending ash and soot down to the orcs. Legolas hoped that they hadn't noticed.

There was a terrible grating sound as a sword was drawn, causing Legolas to freeze. Then there was an inhuman yell and a terrified shriek, which took a moment for Legolas to identify as an orc's. Then an orc barked, "That is what happens when you do not burn when I order you to. Burn this building, then burn the other one. Leave his body; we must ride back to Tharbad."

Soon, Legolas could smell smoke and see it billowing out of the chimney. He tried to pull Elhadril out, but the orcs had left the barn and were all too capable of looking up and spotting their missing prisoner on the roof. So he had to shield himself the best he could and wait for them to enter the cottage, grabbing the mother rabbit with one hand so that she couldn't give them away and holding on to Elhadril with the other. But they didn't enter the cottage. One of the orcs - the smallest, Legolas noticed - opened the door and threw a torch inside. Then he chased after the others, who had already begun to run towards Tharbad.

"Legolas," Elhadril choked. He waited until the orc was well into the trees before springing to his feet and gripping her arm with two hands once more, ignoring the smoke pouring into his face. Finally, she was free, although coughing badly. She then put a hand over the baby rabbits, looking worried, but Legolas was more concerned with the buildings. The cottage, although made of stone, had many windows for the flames to pour out, and a particularly large oak tree growing beside it had caught fire.

"Run," Legolas commanded, grabbing Elhadril's hand and pulling her to the edge of the roof, where they both jumped down easily enough. Elhadril held tight to the baby rabbits and Legolas still held the mother as they raced - or really, walked as fast as Elhadril could - away from the beginnings of a forest fire. They needed to find shelter, fast. Elhadril coughed and hacked continuously in the increasing smoke, worrying Legolas. First she was beaten, then poisoned, and now this?

The fire was growing behind them quickly. Legolas was unsure if they could find shelter in time. He risked a glance behind them and, seeing that the fire was catching the fresh leaves of the trees faster than the grass, headed towards the closest open area he knew: Swanfleet. Even then, the wind was beginning to blow strongly in their direction, and Legolas was unsure if they would make it.

Elhadril was beginning to slow down to an ambling pace. The poison had weakened her, and the smoke had made it worse. Tears streamed down her face - whether from the smoke, pain, or fear - and her body trembled. Legolas was also forced to slow, and he broke his concentration (which had been focused on getting to safety) and looked around for something to aid them.

Only now was he beginning to realize just how much his own body was hurting. He was hot and sweaty, and his lungs burned from the smoke. His eyes were scrunched up and irritated, and his throat hurt from inhaling what he was never meant to inhale. He felt miserable. Absolutely miserable.

But he swallowed his pain with a choked cough and continued to move forward, dragging Elhadril along with him. They needed to reach Swanfleet. They _must_ reach Swanfleet before the growing fire caught them.

Through the smoke, Legolas caught glimpses of shapes sprinting past them: animals fleeing their homes. Now would have been a great time to have Tinnuroch, but the elf-horse had wondered off to graze after she was released from the barn. No help would come from her, save by chance.

Desperate to give something a fighting chance, Legolas let go of the mother rabbit, who quickly sprinted away. The moment that she was out of his sight, Legolas regretted his decision. She should have stayed with her children. They needed her, especially now. Now they would never see her again, all thanks to Legolas, who quietly cursed himself.

Legolas continued to pull Elhadril along. She followed him blindly, hacking and coughing all the way. The smoke was too thick to see more than a few feet, and Legolas's whole body was burning. He could feel the heat on his back; the fire was a few meters behind them. The smoke was taxing their strength and hindering their breaths. Elhadril suddenly stopped and pleaded between coughs, "Go… on. I c- can't."

Legolas ignored her and continued to force her to move. They had to get to safety. They had to. But she spoke again, "I wish… to see… my- my parents."

He remembered: her parents had been killed in a fire. He pulled at her harder, determined that she would not share their fate, then gave up when she resisted and carried her instead, the baby rabbits resting in her lap. There wasn't any time for arguing. Legolas could feel his strength beginning to fail, and they hadn't reached Swanfleet yet.

"Legolas, please…," Elhadril pleaded once more. He shook his head and stubbornly continued onward. More shapes sprinted out of the fire, and there was one that he recognized.

"Gurveleg!" Legolas shouted, his itchy throat limiting his volume. He saw the donkey's outline stop moving for a second, and he called again, louder this time, almost causing his voice to crack, "Gurveleg! Help!"

Although the donkey surely could not understand his words, Gurveleg hesitantly approached them. The kind beast must have been very loyal to Mist to brave a fire when his name was called. Legolas pushed Elhadril onto the donkey and commanded her to hold on. Then he slapped the animal, causing him to bolt. It took the remainder of his strength, but Legolas fought to keep up with him, barely staying within the few feet the smoke allowed him to see.

Finally, _finally_ , Legolas felt his feet sink into soft dirt, which was quickly followed by mud, which was quickly followed by water. At that moment, Legolas collapsed from exhaustion and relief, only to find himself drowning in the mirky water. He quickly picked himself up again and rubbed the liquid out of his stinging eyes. The smoke from the air had not cleared, and Gurveleg was nowhere in sight.

"Elhadril!" Legolas called, but the word came out as a croak. Aware that the danger of the fire was not over, he marched through the deepening murk, trying to get past the smoke. He could barely breathe, and he choked on the thick air. Luckily, after a few minutes of struggling to get away from the flames, Legolas noticed that the smoke was thinning. He tried calling again, "Elhadril!"

There was no answer. But he tried once more, raising his voice as loud as he could, "Elhadril! Where do you stand?"

"Legolas?" a distant voice answered. Tired, sweaty, and in pain, Legolas made his way to the voice, still shouting. His elf ears picked up each response. They were getting closer and closer, and eventually Legolas could see Gurveleg standing knee-deep in the water, Elhadril on his back. She waved to him as he approached. The smoke had almost completely cleared, and Legolas finally felt as if they were out of danger's way.

At least for the moment.

Legolas looked at the sky. The sun was setting, and it was growing dark. They needed to find a place where they could sleep without drowning or being incinerated. Still, they were both too relieved to do anything for a while but just wait and recover from the ordeal. Elhadril kept staring at the baby rabbits, who were writhing and sneezing. Or were they coughing? Legolas couldn't tell.

"They will not survive easily without their mother," Elhadril stated, looking worried. Legolas was silent, unsure of how to respond. He had let their mother go. It was his fault. He tried to change the subject, "The wind is changing. It should clear the smoke. We need to find a place to rest."

"The poor things…," Elhadril murmured, ignoring him. The guilt was beginning to wrench his heart as he stared at the innocent animals. In slight desperation, he offered, "Perhaps she knew that they would be safe, so she ran."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. When had he started to care for the well-being of animals? But Elhadril gave him such a sad look that he didn't say anything and began to lead Gurveleg to a dry-ish patch of land he could see in the distance. It wouldn't provide much protection against anything, but it would be better than sleeping in the water.

Legolas and Elhadril reached the solid ground in a matter of minutes. They were both silent as Legolas tended to Gurveleg and Elhadril dug out a shallow nest for the baby rabbits. Then both elves prepared for a long, restless night. Legolas offered to take the first watch. Of course, Elhadril protested, but he pointed out that she was still recovering from the poison and was not fit to stay up all night.

There was another long silence before Elhadril spoke, "You are a lot like these baby rabbits."

Legolas wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly. He was similar to the rabbits? How? The expression on his face must have betrayed his thoughts, for Elhadril elaborated, "You have both lost your mother."

"I do not feel as though that makes us similar," Legolas pointed out. She shook her head, "It is more complex than that. They, like you, lost their mother in an event they had no control over. They will grow up not knowing her. Their childhood will be difficult and unloving without a mother. They… they…"

"And that is where the similarities end," Legolas finished. "Has it occurred to you that comparing an elf to four orphaned rabbits would yield few results?"

"I have the idea in my mind. I just don not have the words to articulate it at the moment," Elhadril protested, her cheeks turning red. She avoided Legolas's gaze, and he was afraid that he had offended her.

"I've given them names," Elhadril admitted, changing the subject. Legolas gave her an odd look, but she continued without giving him a chance to interject, "This is Orel, the one with the little white spot on his forehead. And that one is Celeg, because he has not stopped moving. Next to him is Halloth, who is oft hidden by her brothers. She has the white forepaw. And then there is the one with the dark ears, Lavan.

Legolas stared at the wriggling masses of light-brown fur lying beside Elhadril in their shallow, makeshift burrow. Then he shook his head, "You must not give them names. You will get attached to them."

Elhadril took her eyes off of the rabbits, who were finally beginning to sleep, and looked at the huge column of smoke rising into the darkening sky. Legolas could see tears forming in her eyes, and he wondered what he had done. He reached towards her and tried to console her, "Maybe it would be best if you rest and recover your strength. Forget about the rabbits' plight."

"Fine," Elhadril snapped, shooting him a glare. "Maybe they are not like you. Maybe they are like me. Maybe they lost both of their parents in the fire. Maybe there is a fifth baby rabbit in the woods, in peril of joining the parents. Maybe they can not help their sister, because they have been poisoned! Maybe they are too _weak_ and _helpless_ to do anything! What then, Legolas? What can they do? Nothing! They sit on their tails and try to keep their minds occupied. They still have friends, remember? Gurveleg, who was their protector, is grazing nearby. He led them to safety. But he can not save their sister, can he?"

Elhadril's outburst angered him, and against his will Legolas found himself countering with a harsh, certain voice, "No, I can not. It is beyond my control. I am not the one to blame! And you are not the only one who has suffered loss! Have you forgotten my mother, your queen?"

"Do not hold her title over my head and expect me to honor it. I have grieved her loss more than the Guard, and I never knew her! Titles mean nothing when…," Elhadril let her thoughts end with that, thinking better of what she was going to say. She lifted her chin, glared at him with contempt, then laid down with her back facing him, her whole body tense to the point of shaking.

Never in his life had Legolas seen someone turn their back on him in mid conversation, and certainly not in such a rude, angry manner. In the heat of the moment, when one's thoughts turn most irrational, he let his anger boil over, "So declares the offspring of a scullery maid and a serf!"

In truth, her parents were neither of those things, and Legolas knew it. He instantly regretted his words as he saw their affect take place. Elhadril's short, rapid breathing - a product of her own anger - stopped as she gasped at his accusation. Her hand shot to her mouth and her body froze. Then her body spasmed as a sob escaped her mouth. She curled up in a little ball and cried, "Let me be."

As much as it pained Legolas, he obeyed. And this was how they spent the night: Gurveleg grazed nearby, the rabbits slept peacefully, Elhadril cried herself to sleep, and Legolas stared up at the blackened sky, ignoring the distressed moans and wishing to see the stars.

* * *

 **Hey, I updated! :) Did you like it? Did you? Also, I want to remind everyone that I have a poll on my profile. And this time, you really _can_ choose two of the choices. So go vote on which fanfic I should write next! Really, I need the vote. It's a three-way tie at the moment.**

 **Thanks to _DD_ , _Roxanne_ , _Guest_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , and _Shadow of Mirkwood_. Also, my sincerest of apologies to all of you with accounts. I have been trying to answer your reviews with PMs, but I can never remember who I've done and who I haven't. So if I answer the same review twice or completely skip you, I'm sorry.**

 **To _DD_ : Yes, I did have to leave you with a cliffhanger. I knew the end result, and you did not. :) Your reactions were funny. Well, I didn't exactly hurry... I sort of finished this Saturday night, so it took me about two weeks... But this was the result! So I hope that you like it!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : That's good to know. :) And I'm glad that if you break your phone in a fit of rage, you still have backups. Oh yeah? Well, have you heard the French Horns in the Lord of the Rings soundtrack? What about the Star Wars sound track? Does your instrument have parts like that? :D I am jealous that you know the first verse of I See Fire, though. Hahaha, good luck with that! At the rate I'm ****writing, it will be complete sometime after Katniss takes down the Capital. Or is that spelled with an "o"? HAHAHAHAHAHA! Your face! I'm sorry, but that was the reaction I didn't realize I was aiming for. Well, she isn't dead. Yet, at least. Oh, did I have a grammatical mistake? Oops. Thanks for pointing that out. I probably just got lazy. :( I bet that you are. Hmm... have you taken the Myers Briggs personality test? I'm curious to see what you are. Anyway, i hope you liked the update!**

 **To _Guest_ : Thank you! Oh, well that wasn't the goal, although killing the reader due to suspense would be quite ironic, because then they would never find out what happens. XD Here it is! I hope that you enjoyed it!**

 **To _Roxanne_ : It is. Naneth means "mother." I think that the difference between Naneth and Nana is the Nana is more familial, like "Mommy," while Naneth is more informal. Just a random thought I'm throwing out there. Well, I updated now. Did you like it? Yeah, it's a love-hate relationship. XD OH MY GOODNESS I AM USING TOO MANY EMOJIS! Huh, that strangely tied in with the last part of your review. #toomanyemojis :) GRRRRRRRRRR WHY DID I DO THAT?!**

 **Anyway, I'm sorry that this was late. But it's here now, so be happy! See you guys next week! (Or the week after... Or never, sense I won't technically "see" you people... You know what I mean...)**


	18. Chapter 17 Part 1

The village was just barely out of sight when Glawardes first noticed the smoke. Her eyes could pick it out even before she could smell it, which wasn't saying much because the wind was blowing towards the flames. Still, she began to panic, "Eldandil, run back to the village."

"Hmm?" Eldandil asked. She had been looking at the beautiful trees, a huge smile and a dreamy expression on her face, not paying any attention to where she was going. Glawardes felt her stern expression harden, "Run!"

Eldandil's eyes flew wide open as she processed this command, but by that time Glawardes had begun to pull her along until they were both sprinting through the forest. Glawardes ran silently, but Eldandil didn't understand why she was so adamant on retreating. Glawardes could hear her mumbling and see her brow furrow as she occasionally glanced around, trying to spot the danger. Finally, she began to slow her pace and asked, "Mist, I do not see any orcs. Why must we-"

"Fire! Run!" Glawardes shouted, gripping the elleth's arm and pulling her into a sprint again. They were a few minutes from the village. Glawardes could see the buildings easily. Perhaps there was enough time to prepare…

Eldandil glanced behind them, "Look!"

Glawardes temporarily obeyed, glancing at what was behind her. The smoke was only barely distinguishable in the far distance, behind many trees, but several frightened animals had appeared, running wildly. Scattered around and in the trees were a few sheep, several squirrels, Glawardes's cat, a couple of raccoons, and a very familiar horse.

"Tinnuroch!" Eldandil exclaimed. Glawardes carefully guided her so that she didn't run into a tree while she stared at the mare. The animals easily caught up to and passed the two elves, but Tinnuroch ran alongside them, recognizing Eldandil. Eldandil, in one quick moment, bounced off of a passing tree and landed side-saddle on Tinnuroch. Glawardes allowed herself a small feeling of surprise, "Show-off."

Eldandil smiled in response, then she turned serious, "I will warn the villagers."

Glawardes nodded as Eldandil sped away, then remembered that Eldandil couldn't speak Westron. She frantically called after her, "The word is fire!"

If the elleth had heard, she gave no indication of it. Glawardes ran faster, her legs pounding as fast as her heart. Panic was beginning to well up inside her, threatening to spill over. She tried to keep a level head. The village was very, very near. She would easily get to it in time.

Two minutes later, her breaths coming in short gasps from apprehension and fear, Glawardes sprinted into the village. Eldandil was already there, standing beside Tinnuroch and flapping her arms around like a beheaded chicken. Half of the villagers ignored her, while the other half looked like they wanted to lock her in an asylum. Sarf, who stood nearby, openly scorned her. Only Cadi and Caradoc seemed to want to listen as Eldandil frantically waved and shouted, "There is a fire! Please heed my words! The forest is on fire!"

Poor Cadi could not translate because Eldandil was speaking too fast. She and her brother were trying to guess what Eldandil was rambling about, Caradoc offering solutions while Cadi translated. Eldandil's distraught face lightened as she spotted Glawardes. She called, "Mist, I can not speak to them!"

Glawardes ignored her and commanded, "The forest is on fire. Prepare the horses! Gather your belongings! If you make haste, you can flee!"

No one doubted her words. Glawardes had been a part of the village for as long as any of them could remember, save Modron. The respect they had for Glawardes was apparent in the way that everyone stopped what they were doing and hurried into their houses, fetching their families, some belongings, and a few loaves of meat for the road. Only one voice raised in protest, "What of our livestock? What of our crops? Will our homes still be here when we return?"

It was a stupid question that had arisen from Marroc, Sarf's father. Glawardes answered all the same, aware that the question was bait, "Do not your lives matter more? Would you rather stay and burn? Flee north to the river! Do not tarry, for enough time has been wasted arguing!"

Marroc wouldn't give up, which was not a surprise to anyone, "What use is fleeing death if we can not survive after? How will we eat?"

"Do you have a bow? Then you may hunt. Make haste, for the fire is drawing near as we bicker!"

"But what few animals live will not support a whole village. We must have our goats to support us, and they will slow us down."

"Do not waste your time on unsolvable problems! Flee and live! Heed my words, Marroc!" Glawardes shouted, glaring at the man. The other villagers largely took her side, but they could not ignore his point. So they pleaded with Glawardes, "Please, Mist, do something to save our livelihood. For what good will it do to live now and die after?"

Glawardes sighed. She was more than happy to deny Marroc, who has been causing trouble for her ever since he came to the village, but she would not ignore the villagers' pleas. Without a word, she nodded and motioned for them to run. Then she looked into the forest. She could barely see the smoke through the trees, but it was unmistakably there in the distance. The wind was still rustling the leaves on the trees surrounding the village, b-lining towards the flames that were too far away to see, but it would have little effect once the underbrush caught on fire, if it had not already.

"Leave with the others," Glawardes suddenly commanded Eldandil, turning back to face the elleth, who had not moved from her spot beside Tinnuroch. The younger elf looked like she was about to argue, but Glawardes stubbornly explained, "You must take care of the village. When the smoke clears, come back to see if it is safe for their return. Make sure that no one is lost in the woods. It will be up to you to see them safely past the river.

Eldandil's thoughts were clearly readable as her brow furrowed, her jaw set, and her gaze began to bore into Glawardes's, as if trying to make her take back the command. She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay and help save the village. She wanted to stay with her fellow elf, where she felt safe and could be understood. Half a minute passed before she relented, silently breaking off her gaze and leading Tinnuroch in the direction of the villagers. Glawardes watched her go with a sigh of relief. There was a good chance that the fire would kill her, and the last thing she needed was someone else in danger.

Glawardes waited until everyone was well on their way before turning back to the growing fire. The wind had died down, allowing the flames to devour their way towards the village at a higher speed. She could see the orange glow now, in the distance; she could smell the smoke…

She snapped herself out of her trance. She had a job to do: protect what she could. And she was going to do that job if it killed her.

 _'_ _What is most important? What should I save?'_ Glawardes wondered. It didn't take long for her to remember Garnoc's goat herd and Gorsad's cattle and pigs. They were the village's main food source, so they had to live. Then she should save Heled's herbs and Brac's fruits and vegetables and grains. But that would be too much. She would never be able to keep everything safe. Unless they were all in one place.

 _'_ _Madoc's storeroom should do well,'_ Glawardes decided, taking a deep, steadying breath before heading towards Gorsad's little farm on the hill, which was in front of the setting sun. She squinted her eyes against the glare and took another breath, smelling smoke. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! Guess what? I'M NOT DEAD! I mean, I was never in mortal danger, but I _have_ been extremely busy and that has kept me from updating. I'm so sorry! The good news is that next week is Thanksgiving break, so I should have time to complete part two of this chapter.**

 **Thank you _Shadow of Mirkwood_ , _ampalayajuice_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , and _Roxanne_ for ****reviewing! I know that you guys will be happy for this update, even if it is a bit late.**

 **To** ** _Roxanne_** **: I know, right? STOP FIGHTING, YOU TWO! *sigh* Thy do it because they are both stressed and stubborn. Anyway, I think that Glawardes and Eldandil aren't focusing on that at the moment. But they will eventually, and who knows? I _really_ never meant to put her through all that, but she kept ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time. Funny how that happens in stories. Well, not funny, but... ironic? Thranduil (well, not him specifically, but his little storyline) will show up in Chapter 20. Oh my goodness, I can't wait until he finds out... :)**

 **To** ** _Roxanne_** **: Well, at this rate, I'll have the next chapter up when they are gathering for the next reaping. :(**

 **To** ** _Roxanne_** **: Huh, I can see that. My cousin is an** **ambivert, which probably explains why he's so well-liked. You did not. :D That. Is. Awesome. Hahahahahahahaha! :P**

 **Anyway, I hope that you guys all liked it! And I am extremely sorry that I didn't update sooner! I'll try to be better next week!**


	19. Chapter 17 Part 2

Eldandil had no idea what she was supposed to do. Mist had told her to look after the village, but what did that mean? Was she supposed to be in the front, leading them to their destination? Or was she to be in the back, making sure that no one fell behind?

Unsure of what to do and feeling lonely surrounded by people who could not understand her, Eldandil quickly decided to find Cadi. At least she would be able to communicate with her. _'Plus,'_ Eldandil thought shyly, _'Caradoc may be with her.'_

 _'_ _Do not be foolish! That will only end with disaster,'_ she reprimanded herself, echoing the warning Elhadril would surely give.

 _'_ _Oh, do not be negative. He is handsome.'_

 _'_ _Still, you should deny the thought.'_

 _'_ _I mean, he is_ fine _looking. Like,_ really _handsome.'_

 _'_ _Do you even listen?'_

 _'_ _No.'_

With that imaginary conversation out of the way, Eldandil led Tinnuroch through the crowd of people heading north. Finding Cadi and her family was fairly easy; they were slower than the rest and near the back. Getting to them was another thing. Eldandil had to be careful to steer Tinnuroch around fleeing families and their possessions, making sure that the mare didn't step on anyone or anything.

Cadi's grandmother - Modron - was the first to spot them. Then Cadi, who was aiding her grandmother by carrying a basket of cloth, turned to see what she was looking at. Eldandil waved as her human friend did likewise. This roused Caradoc's attention, and he smiled brightly when he saw her. Eldadnil felt her cheeks warm slightly as small butterflies threatened to fly out of her stomach. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow on everyone, so she hoped that he hadn't noticed.

Cadi called out what Eldandil thought was a greeting and rushed over, enveloping the elleth in a hug. When Cadi pulled away, she asked, "Are you staying with us?"

Eldandil had to think for a moment before she realized what her friend had asked. After all, Cadi's Sindarin wasn't the best. But she pretended that she had understood her perfectly, "I am. Mist told me to help. How can I help you?"

This evidently required a great deal of thought, either because Cadi could barely understand her or the question was difficult to answer. After a full minute, during which time most of the villagers had passed them, she finally replied, "Tie our bags to your horse. They are heavy. Then we may aid others."

Eldandil obeyed without another word, mostly because communicating was too hard. Within the next few minutes, Tinnuroch was laden with every bag she could carry, and Cadi's family was helping the other villagers with their burdens. Eldandil was also carrying everything she could, staying in the back to make sure that no one was left behind. It was quite a lonely task with no one to talk to, for Cadi's family had disappeared from veiw. She began to wish that her sister was with her. She would have something witty to say about now…

 _'_ _Elhadril!'_ Eldandil suddenly remembered. She was still at Mist's cottage! Or, she _was_. Eldandil hoped that she had fled from the fire. With Legolas, of course. But had she been able to? She was ill, and the fire could have surprised them, or they maybe they weren't able to run very fast, or maybe their path was blocked, or maybe orcs waylaid them, or maybe some wild animal trampled them, or they could be unconscious or hurt or separated and alone or dead…

Tears had begun to steadily stream down her cheeks as Eldandil pictured her sister surrounded by smoke and flames and destruction, cut off from Legolas the same way their mother had been cut off from their father, her brown hair disheveled and her face in her hands, alone and scared, her tunic in tatters and singed, her body covered in soot and ash and shaking violently with sobs as the fire crept nearer and nearer…

"Eldandil. Eldandil!"

A voice slowly roused her from her thoughts, and Eldandil was dimly aware of a kind hand gently leading her forward; she had stopped moving in her distress. The voice continued to speak to her, but she only half listened as it pleaded in very poor Sindarin, "We must move… fire… Mist is counting on… stay strong… closer, and the smoke… Eldandil! Come… hurry…"

If her hands had not been full with food and clothing, Eldandil would have latched onto whoever was urging her forward and cried her heart out. As it was, she was already crying her heart out. She was having trouble breathing as both her throat and her chest constricted painfully, trying to cry out when she was breathing in.

It was a while longer before she noticed the smoky smell in the air. She looked behind her, past the blurry shape that was Tinnuroch, and glimpsed an orange, flickering light in the distance. No fear engulfed her, nor heavy dread. She no longer cared. She needed her sister and Legolas back. She could not lose another family member to another forest fire, and she could not lose a friend. She couldn't lose them. She wouldn't lose them. Would she?

"Eldandil, what is wrong?" the voice asked. Eldandil blinked away the tears and glanced at the owner of the voice. Modron stared back at her with concern, holding a basket of cloth in one hand and Eldandil's arm in the other. An anguished wail escaped her as she once again pictured Elhadril, dying and alone and terrified.

"Eldandil! Hear me! What has happened?" Modron asked again, steering her around a tree. The end of the forest was close, and they had caught up to the last of the villagers, who were struggling to step up their pace as the smoke started to thicken. Eldandil ignored her surroundings and tried to put her fears into words, "M- mmmmy-"

She collapsed into another fit of grief, whimpering. She shook her head and thought stubbornly, _'No, Elhadril will not perish. Neither will Legolas.'_

"Your what?" Modron prompted gently, hurrying their pace even more. A few of the straggling villagers were beginning to panic now. They must have spotted the fire. But Eldandil still didn't care. She was hurting too much to care any longer.

She tried to find her voice, "Sis- sister. My si…," this time her voice faded into a long whine. Modron was patient as Eldandil took deep, difficult breaths. The smoke burned her already suffering lungs and throat, but she continued, "My sister is st- stuck in the- the forest. The f- f- fire will- kill- her-"

And again, her words morphed into sobs and wails. Modron wrapped her free arm around her, murmuring comforting words, as Eldandil buried her face into the cloths in her own arms. She was so distressed that she hadn't noticed that they had reached the Swanfleet River until they had crossed it, leaving their waists down wet and freezing. The sun had mostly set, and the sky was covered with smoke. Some villagers, although not enough, had had the foresight to bring lanterns. Modron led Eldandil to a dry spot a little ways away from everyone else and told her to put her burdens down. She blindly obeyed. Then the old human left to find Cadi and Caradoc, promising to return.

And so, Eldandil was left on her own to muse over the many possible ways her sister could be suffering.

* * *

 **Finally got this up! Ok, um... lost my train of thought... Oh, yeah! I hope that you guys enjoyed it! I really didn't mean for Eldandil to get really depressed but, considering that the friend I based her off of had an emotional breakdown** **when I got lost in Disney World, I think that this was accurate enough. How did you guys like it? Was her point of view good?**

 **My thanks goes to _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Shadow of Mirkwood_ , _DD_ , and _Roxanne_ for reviewing! Seriously guys, I know I say this a lot, but even a small review helps!**

 **To _DD_ : Hahaha, here you go! Awww, thank you! I'm glad that it has managed to catch your attention and hold it. That's a sign of a good story. I think, anyway... :D**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Yaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy! I updated again! XD Oh my goodness, I forgot to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving. What in the world happened to your friend? I'm glad that you have him back. Oooh, I might have to read some of those. :) Let me know when you get an account! It's really fun! Hahaha, is she still like you or did that change? You shall see... *mysterious laughter* Sherlock is amazing! Except I watch the BBC show, not Elementary. Haha, neither do I!**

 **By the way, HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE! Even if that was a little late... but then again, so was this update... Anyway, I hope that you guys enjoyed it!**


	20. Chapter 18: Finding the Way Back

Legolas awoke very slowly, like a dead man being brought back to the living. To be honest, that was how he felt. His lungs and muscles both burned from the day before, and he was aware of how exhausted he was, causing him to worry. Elves don't tire easily, and if _he_ was tired how was Elhadril faring?

With a heavy grunt, Legolas pushed himself into a sitting position and turned his head towards the last place he saw the elleth. She was still there, sitting in between himself and the charred forest, staring at the wisps of smoke still rising lazily from the black trees. She had taken over watch duty sometime after midnight, claiming that she couldn't sleep. Legolas didn't believe her now anymore than he did then, but he had been too sleepy to argue much. The last few days had finally caught up to him.

Legolas looked around. The marsh around him hadn't changed since the day before, and he was suddenly aware of how exposed they were. Thankfully, he didn't spot any orcs prowling around in the trees. Gurveleg was standing a few feet away to his right, silhouetted against the rising sun and seeming very protective of the baby rabbits still sleeping in their makeshift burrow.

As he watched the rabbits' tiny chests rise and fall gently, Legolas's thoughts turned back to Elhadril. He should apologize for what he had said. But then again, she had insulted his mother by not respecting that she was a queen. But he had also insulted her mother by calling her a scullery maid, exaggerating the difference in "rank" between the two of them…

Elhadril didn't acknowledge Legolas as he pushed himself to his feet and sat down beside her. He cleared his sore throat: still no response. There was a long silence that followed, with Legolas having no idea where he should start and Elhadril either ignoring him or oblivious to his presence. He felt his stomach drop along with his courage. She probably didn't want to speak with him. No, she _obviously_ didn't want to speak to him.

Giving up, Legolas sighed and stood up, deciding to check on the baby rabbits. As he turned, Elhadril's voice stopped him, "You should know that I am very, very sorry, and I forgive you."

"Why are you sorry?" Legolas questioned. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. In truth, she hadn't actually insulted his mother. She had only heatedly informed him that she didn't care what rank his mother was and that she mourned for her for a different reason. As far as Legolas could tell, that wasn't a crime.

"I am sorry because I snapped at you. You were only trying to help, and I yelled at you. If I had not yelled, then we would not have argued," Elhadril answered solemnly. "It is just that I was thinking of my sister. Do you think that Eldandil and Mist survived?"

"Mist is strong," Legolas commented, staring at the desecrated forest. "And so is your sister. They will be fine."

Elhadril visibly relaxed and exhaled a long breath, but Legolas couldn't help but doubt his own words. Could they have survived that? They wouldn't have had any warning, and where would they seek shelter?

Surely, they were well and safe, right? After all, Mist would have known the area pretty well. If anyone could find adequate shelter, she could. But could she be trusted? He knew that she was capable of lying; perhaps she is hiding more than she lets on.

A sudden movement off to his left caught Legolas's attention. He instinctively grabbed his bow, notched an arrow, and aimed at whatever the source of the movement was. Through the clearing smoke, he spotted two orcs, a little more than twenty-five meters away. The smoke was too dense for the orcs to see them, but they could surely hear them.

In about a second, an arrow protruded out of each orc's head. But more would be coming. Legolas could feel it. He slung his bow over his shoulder and approached Gurveleg, warning a very startled Elhadril, "We must not linger."

"What in Arda did you shoot at?" Elhadril asked, hurriedly abandoning her spot on the ground and quickly scooping up the baby bunnies, waking them.

"Orcs. Two of them. Probably scouts to see if anyone survived the fire," Legolas replied. He looked at his friend skeptically, wondering if she should walk or ride. She seemed to be walking normally, but a lot of walking might prove exhausting for her if the poison was still inside her, and Legolas doubted that she could heal over the course of two nights. He could still see the long, jagged scar plainly on her arm.

"You must ride," Legolas decided. Elhadril looked like she was about to refuse, thought better of it, and dutifully heaved herself onto Gurveleg, gently cradling the bunnies in her tunic. They set off as fast as they could towards the blackened trees, both hoping that no other orcs were near. Legolas kept his hand on his bow.

As they passed the tree line, Legolas surveyed their surroundings. The ground was littered with dead, burned debris. The ground was coal-black sprinkled with snow-white ash, as if to mock the night sky that failed to break through the column of smoke last night. The trees also resembled the sky, but less so, for what ash clung to the bark was grouped together. The branches were bare and clawed at the sun, now a while into its climb, and occasionally fell to the ground, struck down by the wind. A few trees had fallen; they had been reduced to ash and weren't much of a problem to navigate around or through. But most disturbing of all were the animals that did not survive. They would have been hard to spot, but Legolas's elven eyes were alert and picked them out. He was not thankful for his excellent sight at the moment. But at least there were no orcs.

It was midday before anyone spoke. There hadn't been a need to, and the emptiness of the forest seemed to drown out all potential sound, besides a falling, brittle tree branch or Gurveleg's steady hoofbeats. And even then, it was only because Elhadril thought that she had seen Eldandil in the distance (it turned out to be an oddly shaped tree). By the time they had finally found their way back to the cottage maybe two hours after that, Legolas felt as if he was about to go insane. Every nerve in his body was tense and ready to attack, every faint movement his eyes saw revealed to potential for an enemy, every sound a threat. He supposed that it was the incredible, devoid silence that unnerved him so much. It wasn't natural. Nothing was right about it.

"You know," Elhadril began as she slid off of Gurveleg and set the baby rabbits down, causing Legolas to start. "There may be some way we can find the village. Did you ever see a map that Mist could have had?"

Legolas shook his head, "If she did have a map, it would have burned in the fire, and I doubt that she needed one."

"You are right," Elhadril sighed dejectedly. Nevertheless, she began to sift through the burned wreckage. Legolas doubted that she would find much. Both the barn and the cottage had collapsed, and all he could see underneath was charred wood and a few scraps of metal.

Legolas watched Elhadril for a few more seconds, decided not to point out that she would probably turn up empty-handed, and set off to scout their immediate area. He was careful to stay within sight of Elhadril as he slowly made his way around the cottage in a wide circle. Satisfied that no orcs were close enough to cause any harm at the moment, he went back to Elhadril, "We cannot linger here. The orcs will catch us."

"You do realize that is all you ever say," Elhadril addressed him matter-of-factly, handing him a clay jar and bending back down to dig through more wreckage.

"I do not," Legolas protested. He looked down at the jar she had given him (which was about the size of a loaf of bread) and asked, "What is this?"

"Yes, you do," Elhadril insisted, smirking. She flattened herself to the ground and shoved her hand into a small opening created by a rather large stone her other hand was supporting. It looked as if it used to be part of the nearby wall that was still half-standing. "And that is a jar. There were probably more, but most seem to be shattered. A few survived, and before you ask me, I do not know what is in them. Hold this, please."

Legolas obediently grabbed the jar she had just salvaged from behind the stone. He waited patiently as she felt around some more, yielding another jar, this one with a rather large crack in the side. Elhadril stuck her hand inside the opening for a third time but with no success. Further searching and digging yielded the same result, but they were thankful that they had still found three.

Elhadril grabbed the one with the crack and began to open it eagerly, but Legolas quickly stopped her, "We will open them once we are far enough away from here. The orcs will come back to make sure that they have killed us. We must go."

"You said it again," Elhadril smiled. She stepped back into the ruins, looked at the remains of the walls, and pointed to an obscure gap to her right, "Is that where the door was?"

"I believe so."

She moved two steps to her left and faced the nearest wall. Then she pointed southeast, "They went that way. I think. And I am walking this time."

Legolas didn't object. He didn't have any better direction to go, and they would travel faster if she walked. So they walked.

Eldandil didn't know how she managed to sleep the night before, but she woke up in the morning to Modron's gentle hand shaking her shoulder and her abstract elvish saying, "Awake, elleth, awake… back to village… Mist… rise, we must walk…"

Eldandil reluctantly obeyed, although her eyes refused to open. And when they did, they immediately shut again, for she was hurt by the bright morning sun rising to her left. She cursed her eyes and wondered if Elhadril was having the same problem.

She choked. Elhadril, her sister, lost in the fire. And Legolas, too. Now all she had was her brother, who was off on business for Lord Elrond. He wasn't going to go anywhere near fire on Eldandil's watch, and that's a promise.

But why Elhadril? She was her best friend. Her sister. She was always the person she could turn to. Elhadril and Baimeldis. But Baimeldis was in Rivendell now, so who did she truly have left?

Eldandil resolved to move to Rivendell as soon as she could. She needed the comfort of close friends and family. She needed Elhadril.

Before she knew it, Eldandil was in tears again. Cadi came to comfort her, and Caradoc tried to help, too, although he couldn't do much more than stand there. Still, the emotional support meant a lot, even if it didn't help a lot.

The move back to the village was sort of a blur, partly because tears were obscuring Eldandil's vision. Her sister was lost. There was no way she could have survived. Orcs must have found them; the fire looked like it had started in the direction of the cottage. She was gone. No coming back. Gone forever.

Suddenly, Eldandil was furious at Mist. She had insisted that her sister stay at the cottage. She had insisted that both of them - Legolas and Elhadril - had to stay back. Elhadril was injured. She needed to heal. She couldn't come with them. And now she could be dead because of it!

Eldandil found herself storming ahead of everyone else, despite the heavy load Modron had given her. Tinnuroch kept up with her pace perfectly, neither slowing down even the slightest. Eldandil was going to give Mist more than a piece of her mind. It was all Mist's fault. It was all Mist's fault.

Mist was going to pay. That was all Eldandil could think about. She was going to pay for what happened to Elhadril. She was dead because of Mist. Mist was going to hurt. Mist was going to bleed.

Then why did Eldandil feel so guilty about even thinking of hurting Mist?

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! *hides behind nearest object* I am really, really sorry about how long this took. And how horribly it ends. I wrote the majority of it last night. But, it's here now, so I hope you liked it!**

 **And thanks SO MUCH to all you who reviewed! Unfortunately, it really didn't do much to get it up faster... sorry about that... But I'm still happy that you guys ( _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Lord Illyren_ , and _Shadow of Mirkwood_ ) reviewed.**

 **To _Lord Illyren_ : Have I made you curious? I want her to, too. ****Thranduil and Legolas have suffered enough. But at this point, the story is writing itself. I'm not sure where its going anymore.**

 **I'm sorry if this author's note seemed odd. I'm still waking up. But I hope you guys enjoyed it and PLEASE REVIEW! *gets on hands and knees* Please! :)**


	21. Chapter 19: Friendly Reunion

Legolas and Elhadril arrived at the village to find it empty and utterly destroyed. The fire had absolutely destroyed all but the sturdiest of buildings, the ones made of stone. That said, only three buildings were standing. The rest were burned areas of ash, some with fallen trees lying on top of their remains. Scattered around on what used to be the streets were a few burned cattle corpses. A crow was feasting itself on one of them.

Legolas heard Elhadril draw in a shaky breath, followed by a small whine amplified by the silence. He glanced at her, shifted his grip on the three jars he was holding, and wished that there was something he could say to comfort her. He knew that she was thinking about her sister. There was no chance of surviving such a conflagration.

"Let us check the stone buildings. Perhaps she could have taken refuge in one of them," Elhadril said in a high, cracked voice. Legolas set down the jars and led Gurveleg to a patch of ruins, but Elhadril did not relinquish the baby rabbits, eying the nearby crow with mistrust. Bow drawn and ready, Legolas lead the way to the first stone house, which was clearly barely standing. It appeared to have only one room and one window, beside the entrance. He eased open the remains of the door, causing the structurally unsound roof to cave in, making Elhadril scream.

Once the dust had cleared and the elves' heart rates calmed, Legolas could see that no one was in the small building. It appeared quite abandoned, except for another burned corpse in the corner, this one of a cat. Legolas wrinkled his nose in disgust. The smell was starting to get to him. Still, he turned to Elhadril, "They would have fled the fire."

"They would not have taken shelter in such a small building," she pointed out, but a faint glimmer of hope shined in her eyes.

Legolas quickly agreed, and they made their way to the largest building. This one seemed better built and did not look to be on the verge of collapse. Nonetheless, Elhadril stayed well back as Legolas gently opened the oaken door, which was surprisingly not in tatters. The sight that greeted him made his eyes water - or maybe it was the smell.

There Mist was, staring at him as if he were a ghost, surrounded by cattle and goats and pigs and chickens. He stared back at her, wondering how in the world she could have survived. Elhadril was the first to speak, "Where's Eldandil?"

It was then that Legolas realized that Mist was the only person in the room. Where was everyone else? But Mist appeared not to have heard her; tears filled her eyes as she flung herself at Legolas, hugging him tightly and crying, "You're alive!"

The act caught Legolas off guard, and he almost shot her from instinct but managed to stop his surprised hand from reaching his bow. Elhadril also seemed a little confused, but she said nothing and instead examined the building more thoroughly, as if making sure that her sister wasn't there.

After a few minutes, during which Legolas awkwardly assured Mist that he and Elhadril were all right while she cried with relief, Mist composed herself enough to happily explain what had happened. Apparently, the villagers and Eldandil had fled past the northern river and would soon be returning, while Mist had stayed behind on the insistence of the villagers, endangering herself so that their livestock and crops might survive the greedy flames. Apparently, she had doused the entire oak door in water three times before ensuring that the animals were all inside. She hadn't been able to save all of the cattle, for some had escaped from the herd and she couldn't waste time gathering them, but everything else was alive, if a little parched and sweating profusely.

Once Mist had finished her story, Elhadril clarified, "So, my sister is with the villagers, with Tinnuroch? Are you sure? Who is watching her?"

"An old friend is taking care of your sister. If anyone is safe, it is she."

Satisfied, Elhadril then recounted their own adventure and allowed Mist to examine her old wound, giving Legolas the baby bunnies. He stepped inside the building, only to be confronted by a blast of heat and a horrible odor, more strong now than ever. He almost dropped the baby rabbits he carried in his instinct to cover his mouth and stumbled back out of the building, coughing, "What was that?"

"Try being baked in it," Mist retorted. "I think that a few chickens died in the heat. Or perhaps they were trampled. Either way, we should get the animals back into pens and clean out the building. It is a storeroom, not a stable."

"We're going to clean it out?" Legolas asked, incredulous. Mist gave him a withered look, much like ones that Erion, Tadion, and Nelion's mother would give them constantly on their way to Rivendell. How long ago that seemed!

"Yes, we are going to clean it out. It is not ours, and it would be rude to leave the mess for Madoc to clean," Mist told him. "The villagers have more to worry about than that."

Elhadril let out an audible sigh, pulled her sleeve back over her wound, and asked, "The whole village is destroyed. Only one other building is still standing. Where are we going to put the animals?"

Mist was silent for a while before she replied, "We must build a pen."

This turned out to be harder than Legolas would have expected. They each had to gather large stones from the collapsed buildings, haul them to the area where they would build the enclosure, and stack them to make a suitable wall. It took several hours, and Legolas only paused in his work when the pen was serviceable and an excited shout erupted behind him, "Elhadril!"

All three elves turned towards the sound, which came from anther elf with black hair standing beside a bay horse with a black mane, both laden with supplies. Elhadril gasped with relief as the elven girl dropped the supplies and began to cry. Eldandil ran at her sister and hugged her as if she was an illusion that could fade with the smallest wind.

"It is all right. We are both alive and well," Legolas heard Elhadril murmur, hugging her sister back. Then Eldandil looked up and saw him, "Legolas!"

He soon found himself engulfed in a hug, just as Elhadril had been, but only briefly. He smiled and clasped her on the shoulder, "A simple fire cannot stop us."

Eldandil laughed, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Mist, who had been silent for the entire time, ended the joyful reunion with a worried question, "Where are the villagers? Are they not with you?"

Eldandil's joy vanished instantly, and a brief expression of mistrust shone on her face, but Mist either didn't notice or ignored it as she answered, "They are coming. They are not too far behind."

Mist nodded and went back to work, but Eldandil's expression returned. Elhadril noticed it, too, and quickly explained what they were doing, "We have to build a pen for the animals so that they will not have to stay in the storeroom. You should see the mess they made. It smells like a concoction of Sauron's, and the heat is equally dreadful."

It was many minutes more before the rest of the village arrived, and by that time most of the animals had been successfully herded into the enclosure (give or take a few goats). Elhadril and Eldandil were busy mucking out the building and organizing what supplies they had while Legolas and Mist wrangled up the last few pigs. He paid little attention to the newcomers until a little girl - probably no more than seven years of age - ran up to the pen and happily yelled, "Donkey!"

Mist also watched the girl, who was softly patting Gurveleg's nose. A soft smile spread across her face; it was clear that she was recalling a pleasant memory.

Then the child's parents arrived, and Legolas was left wondering what could have caused such nostalgia in the older elf as Mist suddenly turned serious again, "Madoc, Berthoc, we are cleaning your storeroom now."

The couple both had dark hair and eyes, like their daughter, and tanned skin. The man, who Legolas supposed was Madoc, shook his head, "No need. Melmidoc can take care of it. He is helping Modron at the moment, but he will aid you when he is finished."

Mist nodded, shoving the last pig into the pen. Legolas took a moment to survey the area. More and more people were filtering into the destroyed village, some weeping for their lost homes and others staring around in shock at the unrecognizable ruins. Legolas knew that he could not fully imagine what it must be like to lose everything one owned, but at least they were all still alive. At least they still had their families and friends.

He felt a small hand on his knee and looked down to find the little girl staring back at him. He swallowed the bitterness he had allowed to fester inside him and smiled at her. She laughed and ducked behind the edge of the pen, peeking out from behind the wall with a playful smile.

"What is your name?" Legolas asked. The girl looked over at her parents, who were now busy helping Mist dispose of the burnt cow carcasses, and answered sheepishly, "Dera."

"Do you want to play, Dera?" Legolas asked, smiling at her. She nodded and ran off, shouting over her shoulder, "You can't catch me!"

So Legolas started a simple game of chase with the young girl, making sure that he didn't run too fast when it was her turn to catch him. None of the adults seemed to mind, except for one man who looked as if he never fully smiled. But Legolas didn't pay him any attention, instead swooping down on little Dera just before she ran into the burned forest and picking her up, making her squeal with happiness, "Again! Again!"

Legolas laughed. The little girl never seemed to run out of energy. Good thing he was an elf.

But he straightened suddenly. Someone was watching him. The hair on the back of his neck was tingling, and all of his skills as an elven warrior were screaming. Something wasn't right.

He turned his head, slowly, back towards the remains of the village. A young woman - nay, an older girl - was staring at him with a hungry look that made him uneasy. His fingers itched, wanting the familiarity and security of his bow. He wished that he hadn't left it at the storeroom.

The girl was now giving him odd looks. Dera, who had been impatiently waiting to be released, spotted her and said, "That's Sarf. Mommy doesn't like her. She's not very nice. Caradoc doesn't like her, either."

"Caradoc?"

"She likes him, but he doesn't like her back," Dera replied, as if that explained everything. Legolas decided to ignore it for now and ask Mist later. But as he released his new friend, Sarf began to slowly make her way towards him. _'That is not good.'_

"Dera, have you ever raced?" Legolas asked quietly, in a whisper. Dera nodded, also whispering, "Sometimes Gormadoc will race me, but I always win."

"Will you race me back to your parents' storeroom?" he practically begged. Sarf was getting closer. She would reach him in only about half a minute at her slow, methodic pace, plenty of time and yet no time at all.

"Go!" Dera screamed suddenly, taking off as fast as her legs would take her. Legolas followed, his quick reflexes allowing him to start at almost the same time as his young friend. Together, with Dera in the lead, they fled past a sour-looking Sarf and through the village. Dera began to finally tire, and Legolas had to threaten to pass her to keep her going. Eldandil and Elhadril emerged from the storehouse ahead of them, and he could hear them shouting encouragement to the young human.

"I won! I won!" Dera's small hand slapped the side of the building as she screamed. Eldandil and Elhadril applauded fondly, smiling at the young girl beaming up at them. Legolas found himself side-by-side with Mist, who reported, "It is getting late. The villagers have agreed to sleep in the storeroom, which is finally clean but still reeks of cattle. We will take turns patrolling the village and sleeping in the smithy."

Legolas followed Mist's pointing finger and found the only other building still structurally sound, on the opposite side of the village that he and Elhadril had entered. He nodded and looked around. Dera was excitedly recounting the fun she had had to her parents, Eldandil and Elhadril were deep in what appeared to be a deep and private discussion, a girl Sarf's age was walking towards them with a pleasant smile on her face, an older boy who looked like her brother was staring after them and helping an old woman towards the storeroom, and Sarf herself was alternating between looking at the boy, staring at Legolas, and shooting hateful glances towards Eldandil.

Legolas brushed off his growing concern and instead began to help the villagers pass out blankets and various pieces of clothing, wondering what horrors tomorrow would bring.

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! I'm not dead! :D Heh heh, not that I would be... *grumbles* stupid robot assassins...**

 **Anyway, I am so** **soy that I haven't updated in forever! I literally disappeared from the Internet, completely. I got busy because life. Which means I got lazy. But oh well, here you go. Thanks to _somersset_ , _Guest_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Lord Illyren_ , _Roxanne_ , and _DD_! Thank you guys so much!**

 **To _somersset_ : Well, I probably should hide... It's been, like, two months... Well, actually that helps. So you won't get mad at me for not updating...? Aww, thanks! I'm not planning on having Legolas pair up with anyone, but I was curious to see if he was "cute" with anyone, even as friends, so thanks for your opinion! :) Here it is, two months late. X(**

 **To _Guest_ : Yay! I plan to... in a few more chapters... that I still have to write... *hides behind pillow* Don't hurt me! XD**

 **To _Uruviel Phoenix_ : ... Why did you have a sharp instrument? Sorry, it's been too long for me to remember. I have no idea. Will Thranduil even accept a hug? Hey, Thranduil! *receives glare* *runs in fear* Well, I hope that I update sooner next time!**

 **To _Lord Illyren_ : I know, right? Oh, I'm sorry that you claim to lack patience. It would be a shame if I forgot to update in two months... wait... **

**To _Roxanne_ : That's ok, I'm sorry for not updating sooner. Well, I'm in the same boat there. Haha, I noticed how many times he said it in the movies, especially compared to all his other lines. Probably makes up a good 5 to 10% :) Oh my goodness, just as bad as Bilbo... I'm dying! XD XD XD**

 **To _DD_ : Where have you been? Actually, I have no right to say that. I'm just glad you're back!**

 **I hope you all liked the chapter! I'm literally posting this at night, so yes it's late... and probably Tuesday morning for some of you... Also, just real quick, is anyone else extremely disappointed in America's Presidential Candidates this year? I'm moving to Switzerland if Trump gets in office.**

 **And you probably think I'm purely joking.**

 **Anyways, I hope you like the update! I plan to have the next one out soon!**


	22. Chapter 20: The Prince is Dead

Beldir, Tingon, Colon, and Aduialdis were only just now crossing the Misty Mountains. The sun was setting, ending the fourth day of their journey. They had travelled long and hard, rarely stopping. But now, well into goblin territory, they finally slowed and examined their surroundings, alert. Colon was the first to speak, addressing his superior, "We should find shelter for the night, Beldir. We will be no use to Prince Legolas half dead."

"Are you tired, Colon?" Tingon teased, "How very unfitting for an elf."

"I believe that he was merely thinking of the horses," Aduialdis interjected, patting her own mare's neck. This allowed Colon to continue, "We should find a cave and rest for a spell, then-"

"Caves in the mountains are rarely unoccupied. Or do you wish to end up like Thorin and Company?" Beldir warned, not allowing any arguing. Aduialdis's face lit up, "I heard that Mithrandir himself had to save them."

Tingon nodded, showing that he also recounted the tale. Colon laughed, "That may be true, but Mithrandir is not accompanying us on _our_ noble quest. I doubt we would be as fortunate."

"Oi, then we'd better avoid those caves!" Tingon exclaimed, laughing with his friend. The pair made such a ruckus that they only stopped when Beldir sent an arrow through Colon's quiver and commanded roughly, "That is enough! You two will alert every goblin in the Misties to our-"

"Too late!" Aduialdis shouted, spotting a couple of the vermin scurrying up the cliffside on their right. Immediately, all four elves drew their bows and fired, killing one goblin before the other vanished into the mist. All was silent as the dead goblin fell to the ground with a dull _thud_. Then Beldir wisely told the others, "Come, let us flee before more arrive."

So with uneasy dread, the elves urged their steeds onward, eyes scanning the area for any signs of enemies. Even with the fast pace, the elves could pick out every nook and cranny visible on the walls of stone surrounding them. Nothing stirred, but they knew it was only a matter of time…

A few hours passed, and the horses were beginning to wear out. No orcs had been seen, and the younger three elves began to suspect that they had escaped harm. Only Beldir remained completely on guard. But the horses would be too tired to be of much use soon, and they were forced to slow down to an uneasy walk. Even the horses seemed a bit scared, despite their exhaustion

"I think that we have outrun any pursuers," Tingon braved, Colon nodding his support. Beldir gave the two a doubtful expression and continued surveying the cliffs. Indeed, nothing but grey rock could be seen. But the faint moonlight didn't allow their eyes to pick up everything, and Beldir had enough experience to know that goblins had a nasty habit of striking when one least expected it.

"What was that?" Aduialdis asked suddenly, like she had been for the past hour. Colon was the first to answer, not even looking, "Shadow."

Beldir, taking all of her false alarms seriously, looked back and continued to see nothing. He didn't blame her jitteriness, but it was a bit distracting.

"I have a bad feeling…" Aduialdis informed everyone nervously. "I know that they are behind us, but…"

"Do not assume that they are behind us," Beldir warned. Colon almost rolled his eyes, "We haven't seen anything."

"That's what they might want."

"What was that?"

"Aduialdis, please just stop," Tingon told the she-elf, who returned his irritated look. She was about to defend herself when an arrow suddenly longed itself into Tingon's back, knocking him off his horse, which reared back in surprise. Aduialdis screamed, alerting the other two as more arrows rained down from above. The three standing elves drew their bows and fired, half blind in the dim light, hoping to hit something.

A few goblins fell, but not enough to make a difference in the rain of arrows. All of them were cut and hit, as were their horses. Tingon's abandoned horse neighed fearfully and took off. It would have trampled its master had Colon not dismounted his own horse and pulled his friend to the side, out of the way. Releasing another arrow, he shouted at the group, "We can't stay here! We will be killed!"

"But we can't flee, either! They have us surrounded!" Aduialdis reasoned. Beldir turned to them and shouted, "Have courage! This shall not be our last day! Mount your horses; we will fight! Concentrate your fire ahead, and we shall escape."

"That might be easier if we could see them," Colon grumbled as another arrow nearly found its mark: himself. But he did as he was told, hauling Tingon up with him, and Beldir soon shouted, "Now!"

The elves urged their frightened horses - who seemed to have found new energy - ahead and fired their arrows blindly ahead. Unfortunately, their horses weree nearly as blindd as they were, and Aduialdis's mare stumbled on smoothing unknown, trowing her rider.

Aduialdis, bruised but well, realized that she had dropped her bow. She groaned and tried to find it, knowing that she would be useless without it. But she found many different bows, surrounding the bodies of dead goblins. Under heavy fire and hearing Beldir shout her name, she shrugged and grabbed them all, planning to ditch the goblin ones when she could actually see them.

"I am here!" Aduialdis shouted, running towards her captain's voice. She grabbed his outstretched hand, illuminated slightly by the moon, and swung herself onto his horse. Within a few seconds, all four elves were out of the onslaught.

It was morning now, and Beldir surveyed his group as they awoke. They were reduced to two horses, and everyone was badly scratched up and punctured, but only Tingon sustained any truly major damage. Beldir sighed and sent a prayer of thanks to Eru, then continued his watch, listening to their conversations.

"It is time to change your bandages, Tingon," Colon informed his friend, who only groaned in response. Aduialdis laughed, "I always knew that goblins were a pain in the back."

"Ha ha, very clever," Tingon growled. Satisfied that no orcs would sneak up on them in the next few minutes, Beldir turned and joined in, "Perhaps that will teach you not to let your guard down at night."

"And you must check your wardrobe for monsters now, too, else the big bad goblin king will prey on you in your sleep!" Colon laughed, coaxing a smile from Tingon. Or a grimace. It could pass as either.

All four elves were incredibly sore from the skirmish the previous night, and all silently nursed their own wounds for a while. Then Aduialdis began the task of sorting out the goblin bows from her own, drawing Tingon's attention, "How many bows did you grab?"

"I do not know. Quite a few. I lost my own, and I hope that I grabbed it by taking all of these," she replied, taking a few of the goblin bows and throwing them to the side. "Here."

Tingon looked down at the mirkwood bow she tossed to him. A frown formed on his lips as he examined it, "What's this for?"

"It's not mine. Did you not lose yours when you fell?"

"No," Tingon shook his head, holding up his own bow for proof. "My bow was on me. This is not mine."

"Well, it is certainly not mine. Might anyone else have lost a bow?"

Colon and Beldir shook their heads, motioning to their weapons. Tingon handed the item in question to his superior, who examined it with the air of a sleuth. A steady frown appeared, growing more grim by the second. Finally, he looked up and addressed the suspense that his silence had built, "I know who the owner is."

"Whoever the owner is, he or she must be dead. Waylaid by orcs and goblins," Colon reasoned. Aduialdis, who had finally picked out her bow, shuddered, "Do not say that! Perhaps the owner has just lost it."

"The owner would never lose his bow, that I know, for he is a dear friend to us all and the reason for our journey," Beldir declared. The others stared at him in horror, silently willing him not to confirm their fears as realization slowly dawned. Tingon shook his head, "No… perhaps you are-"

"I am not mistaken," he defended himself. "I would never forget his prized weapon, the slayer of many spiders and orcs alike."

"Do not say it," Aduialdis begged, tears beginning to wet her cheeks. "Please do not say it."

Beldir ignored her, pausing for a moment, "Legolas Thranduillion is dead."

* * *

 **I would have posted a few hours earlier, but I completely forgot. But it's here, like promised! So... yeah, that's about it. Did the title scare you any? Any thoughts? Let me know in a review!**

 **Speaking of reviews, unless someone did so while I was typing this up, only _Uruviel Phoenix_ took time to let me know how the last chapter went. So thank you so much! :D**

 **Anyways, I hope you all have a wonderful day... or night... or morning somewhere... Whatever, just be at peace and now I sound like a hippie... I'm just going to end this now...**


	23. Chapter 21: Or Not

**As always, underlined means Westron. Just a reminder.**

* * *

Legolas sat alone in the dark, staring out into the charred forest. His thoughts were wandering around like lost children, frightened and curious. What was his father doing now? Had he received the letter he had sent so long ago in Rivendell? Or was he leading another search party in Forodwaith or some other strange land?

Worry wound its way around Legolas's heart. How would he take the news of Naneth's death? Thranduil had been holding on to hope for so long… Could he survive without it? Maybe Legolas shouldn't tell his father. That might be best. But to leave him gripping a wish that would never manifest would be unimaginably cruel. He knew that the need to protect his father - and Mirkwood - was great, and he couldn't bear to watch his father succumb to grief, not when he had held it at bay for so long.

But his heart was not with it. No matter how hard he thought, he felt what he needed to do. He felt that he needed to tell his father. It would be wrong not to do so, and he could never live with himself if he didn't. Though his father would succumb to grief… it would be for the better. If his mother was in the Halls of Mandos, his father would not wish to be parted from her.

 _'_ _But neither would I,'_ Legolas thought, lifting his gaze to the stars. He spotted the Sickle of the Valar easily. Could his mother see it from her haven with Mandos? Somehow, Legolas doubted it, but it was possible that she could be staring at the same sky he was now.

 _'_ _I apologize, Nana. I should have done more,'_ Legolas prayed. _'Oh, mighty Eru, send her that message.'_

Soft footsteps echoed behind him, loud with his sensitive hearing. They were not an orc's, that he was certain of, so he payed them little heed and continued to wonder about his parents.

He heard the footsteps stop behind him, but he still wasn't concerned. Someone was probably about to relieve him of watch duty.

He heard the person kneel down behind him. _'What in the-'_

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, a head pressed against his back, and a way-too-silky voice sang quietly, "What troubles you, love?"

With a beyond-startled and creeped out gasp (that may or may not have also been a suppressed scream), Legolas leapt up and trained his bow on his assailant. Sarf blinked up at him with a failed innocent expression, and he immediately noticed how scantily clad she was. Also, she was attempting to strike a pose that she probably thought was…

He began to pray that Eru would show him mercy and strike one of them dead.

Sarf took advantage of his silence and stood up, whispering with a mock pout, "You threaten me with your weapon. Am I dangerous?"

Legolas considered this a moment. No matter how he answered, she would probably twist his words to her benefit. So he narrowed his eyes, hostile, and remained silent. She took an experimental step forward, and he took a defensive step backwards.

"Do not waste your energy. I have already been struck with love," Sarf told him with an alarming gleam in her eyes. Legalas kept his stoic demeanor, holding his bow between them like a spiky wall (which was all it was good for now, since he couldn't exactly hurt her), but internally he was creeped out. _'It is time to make a tactical retreat.'_

But that didn't seem possible, for when he attempted to walk around her, she blocked his path, "Do not leave yet. I am illl."

Fortunately, Legolas was saved from her somehow connecting her illness with her attraction by Eldandil, who suddenly appeared behind her, "Your illness must… uh… make you blind, because… um… your shoes don't match your… hmm… nightdress."

Sarf turned, and Legolas knew that she was giving the elleth an "is that really the best you could do" look. Eldandil seemed to know that what she had wasn't the best, but she held her blushing head high. Sara then turned back to Legolas as if nothing had happened, "I was hoping to spend some time with you… without interruptions."

Legolas readied his bow again. Crazy woman…

"Uh… I apologize, Legolas, I am not skilled at back-talking," Eldandil sent him a sorry look. "I just spent the last five hours trying to learn some Westron, and that is all I know."

"As your prince, I forbid you from leaving me with her," Legolas commanded, failing to keep the fear and disgust out of his voice.

Eldandil seemed to struggle with something as Sarf tried to snake her way closer (not that she could as the bow was evidently an effective shield). Then the elleth came to a conclusion and sympathetically informed, "Try to stay alive and I shall be back."

"What? Eldandil, do not-"

But the elleth was already gone, leaving Legolas alone with the crazy human. Sarf took Eldandil's departure as a welcoming sign, and after staring at him some more, whispered happily, "Did you tell her to go away? How-"

"Absolutely untrue?" another voice finished. It was Elhadril, Eldandil behind her. Legolas had never in his life seen a more welcoming sight. Sarf, on the other hand, looked stricken, "What are you doing here?"

"I like making fun of improbable romances, though usually when no one can hear and be offended. I thought I would make an exception."

Sarf narrowed her eyes and turned to completely face the sisters, giving Legolas his chance to run. Taking this opportunity, he slung his bow over his back and walked as calmly as he could past the human, giving her a wide berth and resisting the urge to run. Running would indicate fear.

Thankfully, Elhadril saw this and began to circle Sarf, going the opposite direction of Legolas and drawing the woman's attention away from him. She only stopped when Legolas had reached Eldandil, who was still just sort of silently supporting her sister and wondering how she could help. Elhadril continued to distract Sarf, who was now between them, "I hope you realize that we know what you desire."

"Please, indulge me," Sarf countered, letting go a humorless laugh. Elhadril smiled sadly, "You wish to be special."

"Do you imply that I am not?"

Elhadril began to circle again, likely not fond of being separated from Eldandil and Legolas, "I imply that you do not believe that you are special enough."

"What are they saying? Can you translate?" Eldandil whispered. Legolas sighed and replied honestly, "I do not know what they mean. I feel as if she is stalling. Their words are... encrypted."

Honestly, women were strange.

"What should we do?" Eldandil asked, gazing worriedly at her sister. That was a question Legolas could not answer. So the pair waited and watched as Elhadril countered whatever Sarf had just thrown at her, "You desire to be special. You want to be important. You feel unliked and unwanted, so you secretly covet those gifts and pretend that others' opinions do not affect you. But they do. You look at your reflection and scowl at what you see, because you see a poor, ugly, unwelcome, and unimportant member of an accursed village."

"That's not-"

"You do not realize how lucky you are. You do not appreciate that you are the daughter of one of the most wealthy in the village. You do not believe that you are beautiful. So you treat yourself as a harlot."

Now Legolas was getting uncomfortable just observing them. Sarf didn't look so well, either.

"You are rambling nonsense," the human said. Elhadril finished her circle, standing beside her two fellow elves, and smiled sadly, "Perhaps I am. I should move on. My point: what is missing from you?"

Sarf stared at Elhadril, utter contempt filling her eyes. Elhadril just stared back, pity and sadness emanating from her smile… and was that a bit of pride in her smile? A hint of triumph?

Sarf must have seen it, too, for she gave a small "hmph" and stalked past the trio, head held high. Nothing happened until she disappeared into the storeroom and her footsteps were no longer heard.

Then Legolas slowly exhaled the breath he didn't realize he had been holding in. He sat down and tried to calm his heart. Had he always been so sweaty?

Elhadril and Eldandil were only slightly better off, and Elhadril definitely looked proud. Her black-haired twin, however, looked confused, "What did you tell her? I thought that you were going to fight!"

"I thought so, to!" Elhadril whispered back, "But I thought that our best option was to expose her pretty obvious weakness."

"And what would that be?" Legolas asked. The proud look only grew as the elleth replied, "Human girls - or, in this case, young women - are very strange. But there are two different reasons someone would act as she would: either she really believes that she is superior in every way, or she wants to be. She was the latter, and that requires her to not be satisfied with her lot in life. Why? Her father is wealthy in this small village and she is in truth very beautiful."

Legolas could have disagreed on that point, but he thought better of it.

Eldandil was gazing at her sister with some odd mixture of awe and wariness, "What did you tell her?"

"I… may have exploited the fact that she thinks that being powerful and marrying well will grant her respect. More or less, she thinks that getting a step ahead of everyone else will command them to like her."

"So you implied that that would not work." Legolas concluded. Eldandil appeared horrified, "Elhadril! I can not believe that you would do that!"

"I did not get a chance to!" Elhadril defended, all triumph lost. "She walked off before I said anything!"

"But you were going to imply that no matter what she did she would never have friends!" Eldandil accused in a hoarse whisper. Elhadril was silent, shifting her weight and avoiding her sister's gaze. After a while, she muttered, "I was not, really. I was planning on pointing out that a better attitude would have worked… or maybe some kindness…"

"But did you? No, you did not. And now you've hurt her feelings."

"Well, she was not the nicest person to begin with, and would you rather have her hurt our prince? Legolas, why did you not scream or something? You are not supposed to just stand there and hope she goes away."

Legolas hadn't been expecting Elhadril to turn the conversation on him, so it took a few moments for him to defend himself, "I was not going to shoot her! What did you want me to do?"

"Scream or yell or make your conversation really loud or - here is an idea - _run away_!" Elhadril chastised. But Eldandil wasn't done with her yet, "Do not change the topic, Elhadril. You can not just tell someone that they will never have friends!"

"You know what? I am done with this. Legolas, Eldandil, I shall continue the night watch. Go to sleep and do not relieve me until morning," Elhadril snapped in a whisper. "I apologize for rescuing a friend in the only way I knew. I apologize for being rude. Do not speak to me until morning, when my temper has calmed, please."

The elleth had tears in her eyes as she took the bow from Legolas, but her face was blank. Eldandil opened her mouth, her facial expression losing its sternness, but she evidently thought better of it. Legolas braved a smile as the elleth turned away to begin her watch, "Elhadril-"

Eldandil's hand on his arm stopped him from going any farther. The raven-haired elleth shook her head, then headed for the smithy. After a quick moment of hesitation, he followed.

* * *

 **So, I updated! Yay! Ok, so, funny thing... my views were cut in half for the last chapter. Was it the title? I thought it was clever. And there is no way I could kill him off and still be within canon. Just saying. :)**

 **Still only one reviewer, unless I missed someone. Thank you, _Uruviel Phoenix_! Also, thanks to all of you who have stuck with me this far, whether you reviewed or not! You guys are awesome!**

 **Until next time! :D**


	24. Chapter 22: Judas

While the three elves dispersed for the night, tensions high and feelings injured, Sarf lay awake in the storeroom, mulling over what the elf woman had said. What _is_ missing in her life? What had been denied? Well, a lot of things. A mother, a caring father, friends, a respected position in society, a betrothed…

But of course, she knew that already. She had grown up without a mother, known her whole life how cold her father Marroc was, been a lonely victim of his schemes, a harlot for him to profit from, without place or love. No one in her old village had bothered to make friends with the young prostitute. No one cared. No one even spared her a second glance. So she had protected herself the only way she knew how.

She became cold, calculating, manipulative. No one would touch her; they were her puppets, just as she was Marroc's.

And then her father had gotten in trouble, the whole town had stirred against him, and he had dragged her down alongside. They were forced to flee to this little village in the middle of nowhere. Her father had no shortage of money, but in a close-knit community where everyone knew each other money didn't buy respect. Almost as soon as they stepped foot into the hamlet, everyone hated them. A few of the elders knew "their kind" just by how she and her father had walked, and the elders were never wrong.

And they hadn't been, either. They were right, but any chance of Sarf's luck changing was washed away by the news that a stuck-up con artist and his harlot daughter had moved into town. Immediately, she was back at the bottom of the rung.

While her father, though still stuck-up and arrogant, had abandoned being a con artist in favor of doing absolutely nothing, paying others to tend his garden and selling the produce. Sarf, meanwhile, had been reduced from puppeteer to simply asserting herself above others, craving respect. But in a community that could trace its roots back for generations, family was key.

So, she had resolved to marry into importance. There weren't many men eligible for her - most were too old. But Caradoc was only two years her senior, and he was _very_ well respected as a young leader in their society. He was the obvious pick, smart and handsome and kind…

But he never liked her. As kind as he was, he was merely _polite_ with her. And then that no good elven girl had shown up, and he was gone.

 _'_ _Like he has any chance with her, anyway._ _'_

But was she truly any better? The elven man who had appeared… _he_ could save her from this life. Marrying him would grant her respect from the villagers and anyone else she met. And who cared if he would outlive her and spend the rest of his life without a wife? He would have friends, and she would die happy - away from here.

But again, those elven girls had ruined it.

As Sarf lay there, brooding over her existence, she reached a conclusion. If everything was going to be turned against her and denied from her, then she wasn't going to just sit back and take it. She hadn't deserved this life, denied by others what they were not denied, without family or friends or love. If she wasn't going to get position and respect here, then she would somewhere else. She would get back at those that wronged her. She would find a place where she belonged, where she mattered, where she was important.

And she knew exactly where that was.

As quietly as she could, Sarf pulled on a dress fit for walking and donned her father's boots, which were slightly too big. Then she sneaked out of the storeroom and headed north, careful not to alert the elven woman on guard. She was simple to get by as she appeared to be crying.

 _'_ _Good, '_ Sarf thought bitterly, heading into the burnt forest, the moon lighting her path. She walked for maybe a mile or two before turning east, using the constellation the Sickle as her guide. Half the night passed before she reached her destination.

Of course, there was nothing left of Mist's cottage but rubble, everything else either being salvaged by the elves or raided by orcs. But she needed a reference point to make sure that she was going in the right direction and a place to come back to if needed.

So she continued on, not knowing how much more time it would take to reach it. Thankfully, the objects of her quest found her first and saved her a whole lot of trouble. She smiled arrogantly at the dark shapes, ignoring their drawn weapons and greeting, "I've been searching for you."

This comment was so odd that the orcs didn't know what to think of it and, though there were six of them (all with weapons drawn and one prepared to stab the pathetic human through the heart), they didn't immediately kill her. Instead, the lead orc growled out an order in their Black Speech, and Sarf found herself tied to a tree with thick ropes, her hands and ankles were bound, and a dagger was pressed against her throat. She could feel a faint trickle of blood gently caress her neck.

"What do you want, scum?" the lead orc barked. Sara was at a temporary loss. She hadn't expected immediate hostility. But that was logical, so she quietly chastised herself for overlooking that detail and gave them a haughty look and sang softly, "I know something you know not."

The orc holding the dagger growled, his voice like an annoying bee buzzing too close to her ear, "She is wasting our time. Shall I do the honors…?"

"No. If she is wasting our time, death is too easy."

In Sarf's peripheral vision, the orc's posture seemed to sink at his superior's words. She couldn't help but smirk slightly. The leader then turned his spiteful tone onto her, "Speak quickly, fool, before my patience thins."

"I know where the village is," she again sang, using the same know-it-all tune. The lead orc had to restrain himself from strangling this girl, whom he would surely have fun torturing later. The other orcs, less vexed by her superior tone because they were often treated similarly, murmured amongst themselves. The village? Where that accursed elf Death presided? Was revenge finally within their grasp?

"Tell us! Spill it before I spill you!" the dagger orc commanded. Sara felt the blade sink deeper into her neck, dangerously close to slitting it…

The lead orc growled something harsh Sarf couldn't understand, and immediately the orc removed his knife and somewhat reluctantly untied her bonds. Then the orc leader motioned for her to continue. With a deranged smile, she sang again, "Not so fast. You have something I want."

"Very well. But do not try my patience," he replied with as much false kindness as he could. Sarf held out a hand and began counting off fingers, "First, I must be given a title of high rank. Second, I want some orcs to do my bidding, if it falls within your own. Third, you must spare my father, Marroc."

The orc, with no intentions whatsoever to fulfill the woman's requests, nodded diligently, "An interesting bargain. We have a deal."

So Sarf explained the whereabouts of the village, with details on its terrain, buildings, and current inhabitants.

"Thank you for your information," the lead orc said with a sinister, twisted, and truly elated smile. He barked out a few words in the Black Speech to his underlings and, like a pack of starved wolves, they converged upon the girl.

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! So, I finally got this chapter done. I'm so proud of myself because, though it was a short chapter, I had a lot of homework over the weekend (that I saved until the last minute), so I had to finish this today. And here it is! *epic fanfare* Hmm... probably should put the fanfare at the beginning...**

 **Anyway, I got a lot of reviews and am typing this with my friend's voice. And. Personality. SO LET'S GET STARTED! ... Ok, that was about to get** **weird so I came back. Thanks to _somersset_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _ccandy_ , _Guest_ , and _Lord Illyren_ for reviewing! You guys make my day!**

 **To _Guest_ : Thanks! I'm so glad you liked it! :)**

 **To _Lord Illyren_ : Oops, that may be my fault. I thought that I put in an earlier chapter somewhere that Eldandil didn't know Westron, but Elhadril did. Sorry about that. But now you know! :D**

 **Anyway, hope you guys liked this chapter! Be sure to review!**


	25. Chapter 23: What Happened?

Legolas awoke early in the morning. But then again, so had Mist. The older elf had, admittedly, been the cause for his wakefulness. It wasn't that she had been the one to wake him, but he just simply woke up on his own and, finding her awake as well, couldn't go back to sleep.

Who was she? Why was she here? Where did she come from? Why was she alone? There were so many answers that had yet to be revealed.

Eldandil was still sleeping, curled around the baby rabbits that Elhadril had saved, so Legolas was careful to keep quiet as he pushed himself up from the hard floor. Mist payed him no heed from where she was browsing the different objects hung around the smithy, some partially melted. There were very few if any weapons. Most of these objects were horseshoes or axes or maybe a plow. One thing was certain: there wasn't much iron to work with, and therefore not many iron tools.

"Modron wants me to train them," Mist murmured, so softly that Legolas was unsure if he was meant to hear. The question was answered when the elven woman turned to him and gestured to the display of craftsmanship, "They want to fight. But they have so few weapons. Marroc has a few, though I doubt that he could use one, and I have only been able to find two swords in here."

If he were being honest with himself, Legolas didn't know why she was telling him this. After all, he didn't know what to do about the lack of weapons. He himself had lost all of his. Only Eldandil's dagger remained of the trio's arms. The bow they were currently using belonged to Mist! What was he to do about any of this?

Angry voices saved him from a response, and with a quickly shared look the two elves raced out of the smithy and towards the source of the commotion. What they found was a shock.

"I do not know what has happened! I saw her last night, but she went back to the storeroom to rest. If she is not there, then I have no knowledge of her whereabouts," Elhadril was telling a particularly ill-looking fellow. He was not ugly, in fact he must once have been considered pleasant enough, but he had the aura of one who was constantly sick. He was ever so slightly bulging at the stomach, and his face somewhat resembled Sarf. Legolas quickly recognized him as the man that hadn't liked him playing with Dera the previous day.

"Aha! So you were the last to see her! I knew elves could never be trusted!" the man exclaimed, an odd look of triumph crossing his face. Mist spoke before Elhadril could, "Marroc, Elhadril, tell me what has happened."

Legolas had the feeling that she already knew and did not require Marroc's immediate accusation, "This _she-elf_ has done something to my daughter! I can not find her anywhere! "

Legolas was quick to defend his friend, his anger suddenly flaring, "Elhadril would do no such thing!"

"Legolas, please, people are resting. Even the sun has yet to fully rise. Lower your voice and tell me what proof you have, Marroc," Mist spoke calmly, with deliberation. The man smiled and began, "I woke up last night and saw her preparing to slip out of the storeroom. I asked her why, and she said to relieve herself. But she never came back. Oh, my dear Sarf, victim to this she-devil!"

Legolas was thankful that Elhadril currently possessed their bow and not him. Only Mist's warning glare kept him from retorting to this man. Elhadril's expression was defiantly calm as she spoke, "And what proof do you have that it was me?"

"You were on guard duty. You were responsible for watching us in our sleep. Whatever happened, you would have seen it. No alarm meant that you did it. Plus, you have a bow and a knife."

"Elhadril, do you really possess these weapons?" Mist asked, remaining way too calm. Legolas began to wonder whether she was just humoring Marroc or actually considering his claim.

"Yes. The bow is yours, and the knife belongs to my sister," Elhadril answered, handing both weapons to the older elf.

"You were brandishing that knife when I came to ask you about my daughter's whereabouts!"

"I was carving a flute for my sister!" Elhadril growled back, holding up a piece of charred wood that didn't remotely resemble a flute. Actually, if he squinted at it, Legolas could sort of see… Nope, not a flute.

"Or perhaps the murder device!" Marroc yelled, pointing. His loud voice was beginning to wake the other villagers. Legolas could see little Dera's wide eyes peeking around the corner of the building.

"If it was a murder device, then it clearly was not complete, for I was still carving this when you accused me!"

Tensions were running high, and a few villagers were beginning to gather around, appearing curious and uneasy. Mist did her best to brush off the situation, "Marroc, have you indeed looked _everywhere_ for Sarf? "

The man's face fell for a fraction of a second. Aha, so he hadn't checked everywhere! But before anyone could catch more than a glimpse, he continued strongly, "Yes, I have! And she is lost, I fear forever!"

"Mist, what has happened?" a well-built, tan man asked. To no one's surprise, Marroc answered first, "This elf has murdered my daughter!"

A collective gasp echoed through the gathered crowd. They didn't particularly like Sarf or her father, but such a serious accusation wasn't to be taken lightly.

Legolas and Elhadril exchanged a look. This clearly wasn't going to end well.

"Please, please, calm yourselves," Mist tried, her steady voice having some affect on the agitated villagers. "Now, according to Marroc, Sarf left the storeroom last night to relieve herself and did not return. Can anyone confirm or disprove this?"

The gathered crowd, which was by now most of the village, was silent. Each person looked at his or her neighbor, waiting for someone to speak. But either no one saw anything or no one wanted to single themselves out. Legolas, disappointed in these people, spoke up truthfully, "I saw her last night, before Elhadril took over the night watch. Eldandil was there, too."

Mist looked shocked. Why hadn't he spoken up earlier? Didn't he realize what sort of shade this could potentially throw upon him? And Eldandil as well? And the elven race in general? Didn't he realize that by not giving his evidence immediately, it subjected him to the questioning of the villagers?

"Why did you not say this before? And where is your other accomplice?" Marroc challenged immediately. Mist addressed him before anyone else could, "Marroc, you behave as if they have been confirmed as killers. This will not be tolerated. Not once has this village seen such an unprecedented, questionable claim as the one you now make. If something has happened to your daughter, we shall find her and discover who is responsible. But until then, pray keep your opinions to yourself."

Marroc stood there, gaping like a fish at the elf's stern reprimand. The villagers calmed down a little, knowing the Mist would get them through this. She always has.

Sure enough, she began to give out commands, "Sadoc, Cadarn, search the woods for any sign of Sarf. Take two separate teams with you. Brac, you and your daughter Sath may search for any clues within the village. Everyone else, stay out of the way and yield any information that may aid our search. Modron, I require your assistance with interrogation."

Several men quickly grouped together and split into two teams, each heading into opposite sides of the desecrated forest. A man and a girl who looked around the age of fourteen also broke away from the crowd, heading back to the storeroom. An old woman, Modron, slowly made her way to Mist. Everyone else stayed together, unsure of where to go or what to do.

"Legolas, I need you to go wake Eldandil. We shall need to hear what she has to say," Mist ordered. Legolas nodded and, with a quick glance at Elhadril, headed towards the smithy.

Inside, Eldandil was sitting upright, fully awake and alert. She cradled the bunnies in her lap as Legolas entered. Her eyes were wide and fearful as she hesitantly asked, "What is happening? I heard people screaming, but I can't understand…"

"Sarf is missing. Her father in convinced that Elhadril is the murderer. Mist needs to hear about last night," he briskly informed. Eldandil looked as if he had struck her and was about to say something, but Legolas stopped her, "He wants trouble. Mist knows it. We have nothing to fear."

 _'_ _I hope.'_

Still, this seemed to calm the elleth down. Eldandil carefully arranged a spare blanket to serve as a nest, gently set the bunnies in, and followed Legolas outside.

They met with Mist, Modron, and Elhadril shortly after, quite a distance away from the group of villagers, who were now being questioned by Brac and Sath. Elhadril looked close to tears, and Modron was doing her best to comfort her. Eldandil ran to her side and began to do the same.

"I just… never should have said such a thing to her. If she is gone, it would be my fault, would it not? If she is dead by her own hand, will her spilled blood be on mine?" the brown-haired elleth asked glumly. She seemed to be rapidly sinking into a state of melancholy, from which her sister was desperately trying to pull her out of. Eldandil softly rubbed her back, "It is ok. Tis' not your fault. She will not be dead, you shall see."

"But- but what if she is?"

"Her blood was hers to spill."

"But if my words drove her to it… am I not guilty? Everything happens for a reason. There is no effect without a cause. What if I was the cause?"

"Then you would surely be one among many," Legolas spoke up. "You saw how the village despised her."

"Were we really cruel?" Modron asked, apparently understanding enough Elvish to keep up with their conversation. "Was Cadi ever mean? Was Caradoc ever unkind? And Dera, was she ever guilty of anything but happiness and joy?"

Mist looked at her old friend. Legolas _felt_ how apologetic and sad she was when she spoke, "My dear friend, if you do not _include_ someone, you choose to _exclude_ her."

Everyone was silent as those words sunk in. The village did nothing to include either her or her father. In fact, they did what they could to keep away from them. Such an act would create a distinct feeling of isolation - a poison to humankind that ate away at communities and families. All she would have required was one friend, one companion. If Sarf did commit suicide, then it was not solely Elhadril's words that drove her to it. Everyone was responsible.

"Now," Mist announced quietly, turning her eyes on Legolas. "Tell me what happened."

So they did, beginning with Legolas's encounter and ending with Elhadril's insistence to be left alone. Mist and Modron listened patiently, only interrupting to ask an occasional question or request whoever was currently speaking to translate a particularly confusing part into Westron. Eventually, they were done, and Legolas was anxious to hear their verdict, still unsure if Mist truly was on their side.

"Their story does not agree with Marroc's. However, I believe that they have spoken truthfully," Modron decided. Mist nodded, relieved, "As do I, but now we are faced with the task of convincing the others. We must not appear to take anyone for their word. We must have proof."

"For that, we will have to wait and see what Sadoc and Cadarn find," Modron sighed before walking back to the villagers. Mist walked with her, leaving the younger three elves alone to discuss what had just happened.

"So… we are not being blamed?" Eldandil asked, hopeful. Her sister shook her head, "We need proof. They must not pretend that we never lie, although the villagers might believe it for a time."

"What kind of proof will we need?"

"Her body," Legolas answered. "So for now, we must wait."

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when one of the two search parties came back. Brac and Sath's investigation had turned up no clues and no final verdict had been reached, so everyone gathered at the edge of the burnt forest when the group was spotted. The leader of the party had a grim expression on his face, and several men behind him held cloth-wrapped bundles of varying shapes and sizes. Legolas instantly knew what that meant, and so did Mist. On her command, every woman and child not yet of age ran inside the storeroom. Even Eldandil and Elhadril were sent back to the smithy. Only the men, Legolas, and Mist remained.

Sure enough, the first bundle was opened, its contents made known to all who had not suspected what was inside: Sarf's mangled head. The sound of retching mingled with cries of horror and shock - and these were the grown men who had slaughtered beasts since an early age!

Mist gave Legolas a look that let him know that she regretted not sending him with the girls. For a moment, Legolas shared that same opinion.

"Orcs. The orcs are to blame," the leader of the search party claimed. Mist nodded sadly, "It would appear so. Thank you, Cadarn. We shall hold a burial for her tonight."

"The rest of her is still in the forest. We gathered what we could, but the crows got there first," Cadarn informed with some degree of regret lacing his deep voice. It was at this point that Marroc began to wail, "Oh, my dear daughter! Someone take pity, take pity…"

No one paid him any heed as the second party came charging in, out of breath. The few that noticed the dead girl's severed head flat-out fainted, but most of the group could do no more than rest their hands on their knees and gasp for air. At once, Mist was alert, "Sadoc, what has happened?"

"They… they are coming," he wheezed. Legolas took a step forward, "Who?"

"The orcs."

* * *

 **Dunnn dunnn duuuuuuuuuunnnnnnn! ... Have I begun an author's note like that already? Whatever. So, anyways, sorry (as always) that this was late! I got lazy last week and procrastinated, and then this weekend was pretty busy, so I pretty much just now finished. So I hope you enjoy it!**

 **I got two reviews for the last chapter, so my thanks goes to _Uruviel Phoenix_ and _Lord Illyren_! Honestly, you guys have stuck with this story like hobbits and mushrooms. I'm so, so thankful for you guys. Like, you don't even know.**

 **To _Lord Illyren_ : Yay, I wasn't predictable. :) Hahaha, she was a bit warped, wasn't she? But people have done stupider things... *cough* youtube *cough***

 **ALSO! Only about seven more chapters left! I'm so happy! But I need you to go to my profile and VOTE FOR MY NEXT FANFIC! Seriously, I'm at a loss, and I keep coming up with new ideas and adding to the poll but I won't anymore until I start on the next one. Actually, I'll probably have two going on... SO VOTE TWICE! Reeeeaaaallllyyyy need your help...**

 **So... everyone keep being awesome and have a great week!**


	26. Chapter 24: Little Chance

**Hey guys! So I am under the impression that not that many people completely read the Author's note at the bottom, so I thought, "Why not put the important stuff at the _top_?" I know, I'm trying.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE _PLEASE_ vote on which fanfic I should do next! The poll is on my profile page, and a description of each one is farther below it. Only five people have voted since I last checked, and only one of them voted twice. Seriously, vote twice. That's an option. You should choose it. *jedi mind trick* You _will_ vote on my poll.**

 **Also, guests, I'm not sure if you can vote, so you are excused. :)**

* * *

Dread shot through Elhadril as her elven ears picked up the news. Orcs were coming. The sounds of rushing feet and men panicking only served to prove her suspicion, and Legolas burst into the smithy to confirm it, "The orcs are approaching. We must move."

"WHAT!?" Eldandil screeched, tightening her hold on the baby bunnies she had been comforting and vice versa. Elhadril examined her sister, her best friend. Eldandil was sitting, legs to her chest and arms crossed, so that she appeared to curl around herself and the small animals. Her eyes flicked between Legolas and Elhadril, fearful, desiring good news but expecting none. Only one look was required to know what was on her mind.

"The orcs will not injure me or you," Elhadril promised with exaggerated calmness. "Nor will they harm Legolas or anyone else. I am sure that the village is being evacuated as we speak."

"Nay, there is no time," Legolas informed seriously. Eldandil began to panic again, "What do you mean by no time?"

"The orcs will catch them. They will perish if they run, and we do not have much of a chance, either," Legolas grimly explained. Eldandil began to breathe very quickly, her eyes shut and leaking tears. Then her breaths seemed to stagger as she buried her face into her pets, making small whimpering noises. Elhadril gave Legolas a withered look. He was _not_ being helpful.

"Hush… Peace, Eldandil, peace…" Elhadril murmured softly, hugging her crying sister, understanding her fear. The last time they encountered orcs hadn't gone so well… She looked at Legolas for support.

"Mist is distributing weapons to the villagers. I feel that we have a fighting chance if we hold our ground," Legolas lied. Eldandil wasn't fooled and began to sob harder. Perhaps a change of subject…? Elhadril had to try, "What of Sarf? Was she found?"

Her heart sank at Legolas's obvious hesitation to reply. Eldandil quieted somewhat, or at least tried to, to hear the news. With a heavy sigh, the prince nodded, "She was found… by the orcs."

"Is she well? Do they have her?" Eldandil asked, innocently worried. Elhadril hid a small, endearing smile that threatened to show. It was a good thing that her sister didn't understand Westron, otherwise she wouldn't have been so concerned for the human woman. After all, Sarf had said plenty of mean things about Eldandil. Ah, the bliss of not knowing and chastity of still caring…

Again, the girls noticed Legolas's pause. They watched him think of how to say what he needed to and slowly shake his head, "She… is not…"

Legolas's eyes met Elhadril's, and he gave the tiniest shake of his head. Elhadril closed her eyes and let out a long breath through her nose. So Sarf was dead. How should she tell Eldandil? The death of a stranger won't affect her that much, but she was already upset about the orcs coming and news that had already killed someone wasn't going to help.

"The sooner we know how we will defeat these orcs, the sooner we will be able to give our aid," Elhadril evaded, avoiding Eldandil's watery eyes. She stood up and focused on Legolas, "How many orcs must we fight? How many villagers will be armed?"

"The orcs are at least a hundred strong, maybe more. Sadoc couldn't say. Only about fourteen men will be armed, and a few women wish to fight as well. Most of them are decent with a bow, but the ones with swords will need training."

 _'_ _Training that we do not have the time to provide,'_ Elhadril knew. They all knew it. They were very well likely to die within the next few hours. And Elhadril couldn't stand that thought. Her Ada and Nana were gone, her brother never around, and her sister had too much potential to see Mandos today. She looked Eldandil in the eye, kneeled beside the elleth, took a hand in both of her own, and begged, "Look at me. We still have Tinnuroch. Please, ride to Rivendell. You will be safe there. For me, please."

"No… no! I shall never forgive myself if I left you! I will stay here. You go," Eldandil vehemently protested, swiping her hand away. "And take the bunnies, too."

"I will forgive myself less than you. If you will not flee, then we both stay," Elhadril informed with a small shake of her head. The dread that had shaken her earlier solidified into a tight knot near her stomach. She turned towards their leader, their prince, whom they were obligated to protect not only because he was the Elvenking's son but because he was their friend. "Legolas, you need to go. If your father-"

"My father is not of importance now. He has suffered much, yes, but word of my mother's death will spread with or without my own," Legolas insisted. He appeared sad, and Elhadril knew that what he was saying was heartfelt and meditated. "Mirkwood will survive. Now, we must aid this village in any way we can."

"That was beautiful," Eldandil commented somberly. Bunnies still cradled in arms, she suddenly stood up and proclaimed with a raw voice, "Stop moping around, we must teach these children how to use a sword without cutting themselves!"

Elhadril and Legolas chuckled, despite the ever-growing sense of imminent death. Elhadril suddenly remembered something and, blushing, ran to the far corner of the smithy. She ducked behind the anvil, grabbed the flute she had been working on and ran back. She handed the misshapen instrument to Eldandil before her resolve died. Eldandil accepted it and immediately smiled, "I love it!"

Elhadril squinted at her with mock suspicion, "You do not even know what it is, do you?"

"Not at all."

This time, Legolas laughed outright. Elhadril glared at him until he quickly excused himself, still chuckling, and hurried out to help Mist. Then she quietly explained, "I attempted to carve a flute last night, during my watch. It… did not end as I would have liked. But I still want you to have it, just in case."

"Oh, Elhadril!" Eldandil exclaimed, hugging her (a very awkward maneuver with four squirming rabbits in her arms). "I do love it! I shall treasure this forever!"

Elhadril smiled and quickly returned the hug. When they released each other, Eldandil looked at the stick and laughed, "It looks like one of those worms we put in Elladan's bed. Remember?"

Elhadril did remember. Elrond's son squealed like a proper elleth. But then an idea struck her, an idea equally desperate and insane and just might _possibly_ work. An idea that they needed with odds so against them…

Eldandil knew that look on her sister's face and smiled knowingly, "You have a plan, do you not?"

Elhadril nodded, a large smile on her face, "We have to fight, but we don't have to fight them all."

"What do you mean?" Eldandil tried to ask, but it was too late. Elhadril had already sprinted outside, euphoria coursing through her. This just might work. They _might_ just stand a chance!

As she ran towards the group gathered near the storeroom, she declared at the top of her lungs, "I have a plan!"

* * *

 **And there you guys go! Short, but on time. I actually finished this Friday, and so I'm really proud of myself. Also, I reread a few of the previous chapters (like, chapter 6)... Ych** **! It... *shiver* I'm partially sorry that you had to read that. I _really_ need to work on characterization. So thanks for sticking with me this far! Only six more chapters to go!**

 **AAAANNNND I need your help. So, *spoiler warning turn away now if you do not want to know Elhadril's plan skip to next paragraph this is your last warning ok here we go* Elhadril plans on defending the village using good ole ingenuity and the resources around them, aka Home Alone style (DON'T YOU DARE PRESS THAT BACK BUTTON!). The only problem is, I've only come up with one defense. It's a pretty good one that I won't spoil, but I need more. So, if you can come up with random traps, that would be great. Even if your idea is bad, I want to know it. Thanks! Some examples of materials they can work with are burned wood, animals/cow carcasses, cloth, axes, broken clay jars, stones, etc. Anything that has a remote chance of surviving that fire will do.**

 **With that done with, thanks to _Guest_ , _Guest2_ , _ccandy_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , and _Lord Illyren_ for reviewing! I love you people! :D Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts!**

 **To _Guest_ : Yay! You won't have to wait too much longer. I'll try! :)**

 **To _Guest2_ : So do I, Guest2, so do I.**

 **To _Lord Illyren_ : Oh yes, it certainly is. Hehehe, but Elhadril has a plan... those orcs better start running! :) I hope that they are exciting, and I plan on building my skill on humor (but it probably won't work). I guess we'll just have to see.**

 **So, as always, thanks for reading and I hope you have a great day!**


	27. Chapter 25: The Battle Begins

**Here it is! The next update is here! *bows***

 **Now for another moment of begging: please please please vote on which fanfic I should work on next! *holds sword to Glawardes* I shall kill her off if you don't!  
Glawardes: Hey! That's not fair! Thranduil will murder you!  
Me: ... fine. *removes sword* But you should still vote! Oh, and my thanks goes to those who have taken thirty seconds out of their lives to do so! :)**

* * *

Glawardes idly watched as the swordsmen Legolas was training completed her son's basic techniques with only minor cuts and bruises. Truth be told, she was quite impressed. They might, _just might_ , be able to hold their own. At least for a little bit. These were only orcs, grunts that overwhelmed with numbers. Skill wasn't really associated with them, right?

Who was she kidding? Orcs weren't stupid. Well, they were, but they excelled in the art of killing and maiming. If Elhadril's ridiculous plan didn't work, then they truly had no chance. As it is, they weren't likely to survive, even if the elleth's plan worked perfectly. Everyone knew it. But that didn't mean that they were going down without a fight!

Cadi interrupted Glawardes's musings, "Modron wants you to know that the traps are almost complete. Elhadril is in her assigned position and Eldandil has finished constructing her instrument."

"Very well. The orcs will be here soon. How much longer do you need?"

"Not long. It is nigh complete," Cadi answered before returning to the forest.

Good. When the orcs come, the villagers will be ready. Or at least, as prepared as they will ever be.

For the umpteenth time, Glawardes found herself staring at her son. She should tell him. After all, they were unlikely to live much longer. He deserved to know the truth. He deserved to know that his Nana was alive… and after all, she was curious to know how he would take it…

Legolas noticed her staring and, after commanding his "troops" to practice on their own for a while, abandoned them to stand beside her. She stared straight ahead, as if he weren't there. She really didn't want to tell him. She didn't want him to have the chance to reject her.

In her peripheral vision, Glawardes watched Legolas give her a curious look, stare off into the distance with her (perhaps to find whatever she was looking at), and then finally turn and speak, "The battle has not yet started, yet you struggle."

She was struggling. Oh, how she was fighting herself! She had better tell him while she still had the strength to do it, while her resolve was firm. But all of those years imagining her son's horrified face… her husband's disappointed features…

"Mist, what troubles you?" Legolas prompted when she did not respond. Glawardes slowly turned her eyes to meet his, aware of the tears pricking at the edges of her vision. Was she crying?

"Pray, tell. Do not go to battle with things unsaid," Legolas again advised. There were veiled tears in his eyes, too. Was he thinking of what he had told her, all those years ago? Steeling her nerves, Glawardes avoided his gaze, "Legolas, I-"

"Orcs! The orcs are here! Battle formation!" Elhadril shouted in the distance, interrupting Glawardes's near-confession. The cry was soon picked up by the villagers, causing the tension and fear to return. Resolve gone, she simply finished, "I am sorry that you never found your mother."

Legolas gave her a small, sad smile and clasped a hand on her shoulder, like a soldier might his comrade, "So am I."

Glawardes returned the gesture, then the two departed, heading for their assigned positions. Glawardes pushed the missed opportunity from her mind. Now was not the time for regret. Now was the time for action, for heroics, for fame. Or at least, now was the time to die defending those that she loves, and those that love her.

Glawardes climbed onto the storeroom roof. From there, she had a great vantage point of the surrounding woods, her sight aided by the lack of leaves. Eldandil was already there, a complete flute in her hands. How she had managed to create one, Glawardes didn't know.

As Glawardes focused on the forest, she became aware of a figure standing between the trees, much farther away from the village than anyone should be. The rest of the villagers were either running back to the storeroom or off to the sides, but this person just stood there, waiting. Elhadril. Glawardes stared at the elleth's back, which was all she could see, and asked quietly, "What is she doing?"

Teary-eyed, Eldandil looked away and answered softly, "She said that the trap needed bait."

Glawardes looked beyond Elhadril. She could see the orcs swarming, still just far enough away to miss the elleth. Sadoc's report of a hundred strong was sorely low. Her gaze flicked back to Elhadril's distant form, a steady weight developing in the pit of her stomach, "Eru have mercy…"

There was still time. She could call Elhadril back, order her to take shelter and let the plan move on its own. But something stopped her. She couldn't bring herself to raise her voice, to move for Elhadril's sake. Perhaps it was every ounce of logic in her screaming that if she attracted the orcs' attention then destruction would rain down that much faster. Or perhaps it was the fact that there wasn't actually anything she could do to save the girl anyway. They were all doomed as it was.

Suddenly, Eldandil's wrath was upon her, "You aren't going to do anything about it, are you? First you left Legolas and Elhadril for the orcs! You left them in the fire! Now you leave her to die by the sword! Do you want us to see Mandos? Do you want my sister to perish, Mist?"

Glawardes, caught off guard, searched frantically for something to say. But Eldandil beat her to it, shouting vehemently, "Everyone calls you a leader, Mist! Even Caradoc, from what little Westron I understand, insists that you have kept them safe! But now I see what you are! You separated us! I never should have left Elhadril, but before the fire you lured me here! And now I'm about to lose her again, _and you do nothing_!"

Some long-unused motherly instinct told Glawardes that Eldandil was scared beyond her wits, that she didn't mean what she said, and that whatever emotional wound had led to this had been allowed to fester since the forest caught fire. But that still only barely kept her from arguing with the girl. She tried to calm the sudden urge to shout back, _"Do not dare to question what I am trying to do! How should I have known that the orcs would find my cottage? They had been searching for years! As it is, we will all die regardless!"_

Tears streamed into Eldandil's eyes and the elleth seemed to shrink, making Glawardes glad that she had held her tongue. Eldandil suddenly turned away, furiously wiping her hands against her eyes. Glawardes's heart softened, and she gentle rested her hand on the crying girl's shoulder, "Eldandil, your sister is strong. She stands a better chance out there than many of Mirkwood's finest."

Eldandil nodded, still crying and refusing to turn back around. Glawardes cut short a small, involuntary jerk forward to better comfort the girl in an embrace when she was suddenly reminded of why she needed comfort in the first place. The orcs, hearing Eldandil's angry yells, had instinctively turned towards the noise and spotted Elhadril and the village beyond. Glawardes's heart sunk. _'They would have found her eventually…'_

"The battle has begun. Eldandil, calm yourself. Elhadril needs you," Glawardes commanded as gently as her nerve-wracked mind allowed her. She turned away from the elleth fully and focused on her waiting sister. The orcs were converging on Elhadril, running at top speed. Glawardes's sharp sight could almost pick out the bloodlust in the orcs' eyes, yet Elhadril didn't seem to even flinch as they came closer… and closer… She hadn't even drawn her bow yet… They were almost upon her… _'Oh, Eru!'_

The leading orcs suddenly disappeared, and two trees abruptly toppled to the ground with identical, mighty thuds, pinning and crushing many of the foul creatures that had previously been ready to take Elhadril's life and creating a small barrier between them. Glawardes could barely believe it. The traps had actually worked!

But now the orcs were regrouping, those not pinned climbing over the fallen trees or moving around them. The trap hadn't taken nearly enough orcs out of the fight, so it was critical for Glawardes to make sure that the attacking army was in as much disarray as possible. Her voice was cool and calm as she announced, "Now, Eldandil!"

Three long, high-pitched notes sounded from the flute Eldandil skillfully held to her lips, signaling for the archers hidden in the stronger trees to begin their attack. They were under orders to not shoot unless they would hit their targets because of the shortage of arrows, but this did not stop a rather hefty amount of projectiles embedding themselves into the orc army, successfully delaying the attempted reorganization. More traps involving carefully-hidden pits and unstable trees were sprung as the orcs darted about, trying to figure out where their enemies were. Glawardes caught sight of Elhadril sneaking off into one of the sturdier trees off to the side, where a few villagers had taken their positions, and catching a few of her arrows on fire and quickly embedding them into the fallen trees in an attempt to further kill any orcs trapped beneath.

Using the precious few moments of distraction the archers were providing, Glawardes glanced around at the remaining villagers. What few swordsmen they had stood beside Legolas, courage and grim determination overriding their fear. The women all held various pots and pans, and all those still considered children were collecting sharp rocks. Her gaze lingered on them the longest, remembering a young child from long ago…

"Mist, they are coming," Eldandil warned. Glawardes's eyes snapped back to the battle at hand. Sure enough, the orcs were running through the raining arrows and towards the village, the lust for inflicting pain growing. With swift, practiced hands, Glawardes pulled out her bow and nocked the flaming arrow Eldandil handed her. Not a second later, it was flying through the dry air, finishing its journey by thudding into the small wall of burned wood completely surrounding their position in the village. The fire spread quickly, the greasy animal remains catching almost instantly. Soon, a daunting barricade of fire stood between the orcs and their prey, just tall enough to obscure someone's vision of the other side if he or she wasn't elevated.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," Glawardes heard Eldandil muse humorlessly. As predicted, the fire did little to harm the orcs. It only served to slow them down long enough for the archers to trim their numbers just a little bit more. Then the scum charged, leaping through the flames as if they weren't even there… and then falling flat on their faces when they landed.

Luckily, Elhadril and Eldandil had learned from the best pranksters in Middle Earth, Elladan and Elrohir, and had had the foresight to order some of the villagers to make an embankment using the dirt closest to the fire, as a result creating a wide indention in the earth. In this indention, the villagers had been instructed to put animal… by-products, if you will, making the area very slick and quite revolting.

Glawardes heard a few of the children giggle as the orcs struggled to maintain their footing and not trample or be trampled by their fellows, who were still leaping across the flames due to the obscurity of vision. The orcs were in a great state of confusion and panic, and the older elf seized the opportunity to draw this weak point out, "Second wave, Eldandil."

Two short notes cut through the sounds of screeching orcs and whistling arrows, signaling for the remaining villagers to begin their fight. With war cries and bravery that didn't reach their frightened minds, they began to hurl their broken pottery and sharp stones at the struggling army. Some even managed to hit their mark, at the very least bruising the orcs and at the very most rendering them momentarily unconscious. Glawardes joined in the fighting, expertly firing arrows at the downed, filth-covered scum, killing one with each shot.

This continued for quite a while before the orcs, battered and bruised, made it up the embankment, forcing Eldandil to sound the one-note retreat. From here, the swordsmen took over, stabbing and slashing the orcs, who were still struggling to remain standing. Every now and then, an orc would slay or injure a villager, but as the orcs had the low ground and they were more often than not unbalanced, the barely trained villagers managed to hold their own as the women and children retreated into the storeroom. Legolas, Caradoc, and Sadoc all guarded the barricaded entrance, just in case, although Glawardes could see that the orcs' numbers were thinning. Between the swordsmen, Elhadril's traps, and the archers, they just didn't seem to be holding up. She could see that, comparatively, not too many orcs remained and, though the villagers were still vastly outnumbered, the attacking army no longer seemed so infinite. They might actually survive this.

The "just in case" scenario happened then, right as Glawardes thought that the battle's end was near. Caradoc's sudden cry of pain alerted Glawardes to some sort of surprise attack even before Legolas's shocked voice called out in warning, "Mist!"

Glawardes and Eldandil both twirled around immediately to face the new threat. Glawardes heard Eldandil scream in anguish and thought that it was because of the orcs now attacking them from behind, leaping through the fiery wall that had shielded them from view. But then her gaze flicked downward, intent on making sure that her son was uninjured from the surprise, and saw why Eldandil had been so horrified. Caradoc laid face-up on the ground, his life slowly draining from an arrow-inflicted wound in his chest.

"No!" Eldandil screeched, leaping down from their perch on the storeroom. Glawardes tried to grab her arm, to prevent her from committing suicide for a fading dream that would never have come true, but the elleth had already entered the fray below. Glawardes quickly glanced around the battlefield, trying to gauge how much this event will affect the outcome and what she could do about it. The archers were still hidden in the trees, unaccessible to the orcs still attacking their front, but the other swordsmen already had their hands full. They had to initiate their backup plan, but only Eldandil's flute could convey the signal properly.

"Eldandil!" Glawardes called, panicking slightly when she couldn't immediately spot the elleth. A few moments later and the younger elf was found, kneeling by Caradoc and doing her best to save the dying man, who appeared to be already dead. Glawardes leapt down and put a hand on her shoulder, her grip soft but firm. Eldandil's cheeks were covered in silent tears, "I barely even knew him, and yet he had my love."

"I know," Glawardes responded as gently as she could, trying to come up with words that would bring the young elleth's attention back to the battle at hand. "But we must not let his sacrifice be in vain. We must re-coordinate our attack, so that others may survive him."

Eldandil nodded to show that she understood and, apparently ignorant of the carnage around her, took the time to gently slide the young man's eyelids closed. Glawardes squeezed her shoulder comfortingly before ordering, "Give the signal for countermeasure four, then attack three. The swordsmen need to focus on- NO!"

Glawardes quickly lunged in between Eldandil and an attacking orc, pulling yet another arrow of her quiver and plunging it into her opponent's neck as it returned the favor and buried a dagger in her ribs. Faintly, through the burst of immeasurable pain, she could hear screaming in the distance, and her rapidly-blurring vision locked onto Legolas's stunned face just a few feet away. She was fuzzily aware of the ground colliding with her body and her mouth open in a shocked gasp, attempting to draw in air when her paralyzed lungs refused. Someone's hands pushed her onto her back and a face came into focus briefly - Eldandil's face, screaming something at her. But the pain of her wound was beginning to fade, and her body was beginning to lose all feeling and warmth. It was… blissful. How easy it would be to just slip into nothingness…

 _'_ _Legolas!'_ Glawardes desperately thought. She had never told him! Fighting the peace, her eyes zeroed in on Eldandil's face with a urgency unseen before, and with great effort the dying elf managed to choke out, "Tell him… I am… Glawardes… the Elvenqueen!"

And with that last sentence, Eldandil's overwhelmingly startled face faded to blackness.

* * *

 **Glawardes: Wait, what? Why did you do that?  
** **Me: And you thought I was joking... XD I sort of was. Her fate isn't decided on if you vote or not, so no pressure. And don't worry! There are still five or so chapters to go. :)  
Glawardes: But am I dead or not?  
Me: ... No comment. Now, onto the reviews! Thanks to _somersset_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Grace_ , _Roxanne_ , and _Lord Illyren_ for reviewing! And thanks to everyone else for even reading this far! I love you all! Here's some brownies! *throws brownies at computer screen***

 **To _Grace_ : Thanks! :)**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Um... I'm not sure. Just glad you're back. :) Hope that stuff from March is over now. Oh boy, here we go...  
A) Yay!  
B) At least you've been keeping up with it. That makes me feel good.  
C) Yay, I'm improving. :) Yep, she got beheaded. Honestly, I didn't see that coming either.  
D) Apparently not. Hence the above chapter.  
E) Yep, only five after this. :) Yeah, it will make me sad to see the end, but I'll be happy that it's completed!  
F) I usually just write down those ideas and write them when I'm not inspired with this one. Plus I have a friend that keeps bugging me for the ending, so... :/  
G) A really cruel plot twist? Hmm, who would do that? *innocent face*  
H) I know, right? It's been weird writing without them. I miss your reviews. :(  
I) Really? I thought that it had. Oh well, I guess some people are just so in hysterics with fear that they are forced to laugh.  
J) Yep. But I don't remember why I had them there in the first place... I completely forgot... X(  
K) Yep, she is. Huh, really? I always planned for Elhadril to be the stoic one, although being poisoned for most of the story ****probably ruined that somewhat.  
L) Yeah, that was really awkward to write, too. I really don't know what I was thinking at the time... but it got the job done, so...  
M) Ok, I'll try not to! :) See ya later!  
No i Melain na le. :)**

 **To _Lord Illyren_ : Nope, no spoiling. :) *evil laugh* Well, I tried to explain how she thought that she had betrayed her family and friends and that she was afraid that they were angry and would reject her, but I guess that since we know both sides of the story she doesn't have an excuse to not confess. If she ever gets the chance... *maniacal grin***

 **Anyways, thank you all so much for reading! I'm sorry that the update is so late. I'll try to do better next time. But until then, have fun dangling off of the cliffhanger! I may or may not send Glawardes to get a rope later... Man, I can be evil... :)**


	28. Chapter 26: The Battle Ends

**Hi, all! I think that I forgot to give a shoutout to _Uruviel Phoenix_ for helping me come up with some of the traps. Her ideas were great! Although I might have ruined a few... :/**

 **Anyway, again, PLEASE VOTE! Some people have posted their votes in their review, so if you want to do that too, then the choices are as follows: Avengers, Transformers, BBC Sherlock, Adventures of Tintin, Treasure Planet, and Harry Potter. You can choose up to TWO options. Just keep in mind that voting on my profile is more helpful.**

* * *

Legolas fought with all of his strength and heart, his mind warped around one objective: kill every orc within his reach. And considering that the battlefield was now flooded with them, he had a lot to work with. With fluid, precise movements, each orc fell one-by-one at the hands of the Sindarin prince. They were no match against his focus, his anger.

He could still see Mist as she fell, sacrificing herself for Eldandil. He could still hear Eldandil's announcement that she was still alive. He knew that Eldandil was trying her hardest to stop the fatal bleeding that might still claim this elf's life. He knew that if the orcs got any closer, then both Eldandil and Mist - as well as the women and children taking shelter in the storeroom - were all lost.

Legolas didn't know why he was fighting so hard for Mist. Actually, he did, but he was too focused on defending Eldandil to notice. He was picturing Mist as his mother, imagining what it must have been like in those final moments of that ancient battle, wishing with all his might that this battle might turn out differently because he was here to help. He was back in that battle, a fight he never got the chance to fight, and he wasn't going to let his Nana down.

Eldandil four quick notes on her flute - _'Light the embankment!'_ \- and then three sets of a triplet pattern - _'Defend the storeroom!'_ The sounds danced eerily over the clash of metal and screams of the injured, a raven gliding over a massacre of wolves. After a moment, another note vibrated the air. A single, low sound, repeated twice - _'Commander injured!'_

Legolas risked a glance towards the storeroom door, where Eldandil was quickly setting down her flute and tending to Mist's bloody form. He turned back to the battle at hand and swiftly decapitated two orcs with one blow, mind screaming curses and vows. Soon, the other swordsmen joined him, hacking and lunging and beating back the orcs. But the orcs kept on coming, their overwhelming numbers threatening to skew the odds even more than they already were.

It wasn't long before more swordsmen joined Caradoc, their souls moving to a place only Eru knew about, and the orcs began to press in on the remaining villagers. Without Mist to direct them, the defenders could only form a weak, increasingly small semi-circle around the entrance to the storeroom. Aside from Legolas, no one had the skill or experience to keep up with the continuous onslaught. If this kept up, then no one would be left to defend the storeroom… or Eldandil and Mist.

But they were losing the fight - badly. With a quick glance around, Legolas realized that only six other men remained, a few of which were injured and likely to fall at any moment. A growl left his throat and he fought on with a renewed energy, despite his lowering morale. No, he must continue to fight. If he gave up - if any of the gave up - then the women and children would be slaughtered like animals. He had to keep thinking of his Nana. He had to defend "her." Even if-

A plan suddenly formed in his mind, sudden and wonderful and by no small amount crazy. For years, many may look back and wonder what could have possibly inspired such a mad scheme, but Legolas could only think of one thing, _'The animals!'_

The orcs had made few mistakes - their plan was to keep throwing men at the village until no one was left, after all - but in their focus to destroy the last defenders and elves, they had deviated from their normal strategy of immediately killing everything that moved. The animals were still in their pen, spooked and on the verge of stampeding.

"I have a plan! Do not despair! Remember your loved ones and keep fighting!" Legolas, thinking quickly, called to the other men, who were on the verge of giving up. A last, desperate burst of energy seemed to fill the remaining swordsmen, and they hacked at the enclosing forces with a new, but rapidly fading vigor. Knowing that their defense would not last much longer, Legolas glanced at Eldandil, "Signal the archers! Have them come around to the back and cover us!"

"You mean countermeasure five?"

"If that brings their attention hither, then yes!"

"Legolas," Eldandil warned quickly over the cacophony of battle, looking doubtful and frightened, "I'll have to stop tending to Mist to signal the archers. I'm not sure-"

"If you don't, then she shall die anyway!" Legolas pointed out with a frustrated shout. A moment later, the shrill sounds of a flute raced through the air, two high and five low. Now all they had to do was hold that position until backup arrived. Legolas silently urged the archers to hurry as another man fell and their semi-circle was forced to shrink.

But Elhadril and the other archers seemed to be taking their time, as several minutes passed without any sign of them. A brief twinge of worry clung to Legolas's mind. Had they all been found and defeated? He shook the thought off, focusing on slaying his current adversaries. When he had a spare moment, Legolas urgently called to Eldandil, "Signal for the archers to make haste!"

"I can not! Mist is fading!" Eldandil called back, sounding anxious. Legolas barely heard her, for he had received a wound as payment for his inattention. He quickly stabbed the orc in the chest and, once his opponent had slid to the ground, glanced at the injury. Red blood steadily dribbled through a slice on his left arm. _'I hope that is not poisoned.'_

At the sight of the elf getting injured, the other swordsmen's morale fell even further, rendering their fighting prowess nearly ineffective. Only three other men were left standing with Legolas when an arrow flew gracefully through the air and slammed into an orc to Legolas's left that was about to narrow the number to two, killing the servant of Sauron. Legolas - and just about everyone in his immediate area - briefly turned their attentions towards the trees, trying to pinpoint the projectile's owner. Then Legolas took advantage of his adversary's lack of attention and quickly finished him off as more arrows rained down like merciful rain after a drought. _'Finally! Thank the Valar!'_

"Stand your ground! I shall return shortly!" Legolas informed the other three swordsmen, hurriedly leaping into the throng of confused, angry orcs. Some of the orcs were hastily dispersing, trying to find the hidden archers, while the rest busily tried to hack away at the remaining villagers and passing elf. Legolas had a difficult time evading and fighting them all, but he eventually made it to the animal pen and threw open the makeshift gate. It didn't take more than a few seconds for the animals to realize that they had an escape and charge through it, trampling the first few unfortunate orcs that hadn't been paying attention.

Legolas leaned tiredly against the pen's walls and nodded to himself in satisfaction as the animals continued to frighten and trample the invading army, which no longer seemed so big. In fact, the numbers almost looked manageable now.

A hefty blow to his torso brought Legolas's focus back with a stabbing pain, a move which he did not hesitate to return, thrusting his sword deep into the attacking orc's side. The orc fell, its black blood coating the ground, and Legolas spared another glance at his own body. It was now covered in cuts and bruises, the worst of which were his shoulder and the new, deep slash in his abdomen. Agony pulsated from his injuries, growing stronger the more he paused to think about them.

 _'_ _Do not dwell on them. Mist needs you,'_ Legolas stubbornly told himself, gritting his teeth through the pain. His eyes were watering from the excruciating strain he was putting on his body, but when he looked towards the storeroom he saw that the battle wasn't over. Two more villagers had collapsed, leaving only Sadoc to defend Mist and Eldandil. He was a good fighter, and the orcs were mostly distracted by the archers and the stampeding animals, but it was clear that his strength was fading fast. Legolas could see that Eldandil knew this, because she was distraughtly sobbing as she worked to save Mist's life, her hands fumbling and clumsy in her fear.

 _'_ _I need to make haste,'_ Legolas again told himself, fighting his pain. With one last war cry, Legolas stabbed the nearest orc's skull, killing it instantly and helping to convert his agony into anger. His grimace turned into a scowl of hate for these orcs and his thoughts began to chant anew as he reentered the fray of battle, _'They killed my Nana. They killed my Nana. They killed my Nana.'_

Legolas sliced the next orc's arm, then decapitated the next, then impaled the one after that, then thrusted his weapon into a weak point in the first orc's armor when it turned to kill him. The fight to reach his friends quickly became a raging blur. Stab, dodge, thrust, slice, stab, duck, behead, slice, stab, stab, parry, thrust, sidestep, behead, stab. Lifeless orcs fell to the ground in droves, their black blood slicking the ground. But Legolas's footing remained sure as he whirled and parried and dodged and killed, his injuries fading from his mind as he dealt them out, making his way to his friends with all possible swiftness.

Eldandil's scream tore through the air, making Legolas look up from his furious onslaught. Sadoc had finally been slain, leaving the two elven women completely undefended. They weren't more than eight feet away, but Legolas was currently being pinned down by three orcs, so he was powerless to do anything as another lumbered up to them in slow motion, raising his glistening sword high above Eldandil's head. The elleth's tear-streaked face was suddenly covered by her raven hair as she flung herself across Mist's seemingly lifeless, pale body. The orc's sword began its downward plunge, time defying all concepts of mercy as it continued to slow, forcing Legolas to watch as he battled the three other orcs.

Mere moments before the sword would strike its target, the orc's head jerked oddly, and he fell. Legolas's concentration faltered as his mind split between comprehending what had happened and defeating his three opponents, almost earning him another deep wound had an arrow not slammed into one of their faces. Two more arrows followed, each burying themselves as far as their fletchings into their targets. The archers had saved him, and likely Mist and Eldandil as well.

He didn't waste any time hurrying to Eldandil's side and quickly glancing her over for injuries. She had picked up some nasty cuts, but nothing appeared potentially fatal, so Legolas immediately returned his attention to the battle at hand, not bothering to waste time informing her that she was safe in case an orc snuck up behind him while he did so.

Enraged and desperate at the close call, Legolas slammed his blade into another orc and glared around wildly, daring someone else to come and challenge him. Only about twenty-five orcs remained, and they were all either trying to evade the still stampeding animals or being violently and swiftly killed by the archers, who were not firing as rapidly as they had been before. No one came meet the elven prince's silent dare.

And just like that, the battle was over. The remaining orcs fled, jumping the smoldering remains of the fire that had encompassed the village. The archers fired a few shots after them for good measure, and Legolas simply watched their retreating forms as the adrenaline in his body began to recede. Relief slowly washed over him. It was over. They had won. _They had won!_

But that relief was almost instantly replaced by extreme fatigue and anguish. He once again became aware of his grievous injuries and the throbbing torment coming from them. He looked down at his blood-soaked clothes, black and red instead of green and brown. The ground below him was in a similar state, though some of the redness was from his fallen comrades…

His sword slid from his loosening grip, falling to the ground with a muted _thud_. Legolas felt more than heard a groan slip out of his mouth, and suddenly he was also on the slick ground, laying on his side. Not that he really cared. All of his concentration was on not giving in to the pain. He wasn't ready to die just yet.

"Legolas? Legolas!" a voice tried to summon him through the misery. He cried out in pain as the owner of the voice rolled him onto his back, continuing to call his name. He squinted up at the figure above him, grimacing and clenching his teeth, "That _hurts_!"

"Oh, my apologies!" Elhadril's voice came back to him as she came into focus. A bow was slung across her back, along with an empty quiver. She only had a few scratches on her arms, and as Legolas turned his head to survey the rest of the battlefield, he realized that the other archers were in similarly uninjured states. Pressure on his abdomen brought his attention back with another sting, "Ow!"

"Stop complaining. I can't do much better. Eldandil's the healer, and she is busy trying to keep Mist from Mandos," Elhadril retorted irritably as she pressed a comparably clean cloth harder against his bleeding wounds, though Legolas could see that her short temper was due to worry. Hesitantly, he gasped, "Eldandil is safe."

"Hush. You will not improve your condition by talking," Eldandil spoke from beside her sister. Legolas hadn't seen her there before. She must have moved to keep a better eye on them both as she steadily worked on Mist. With a glance in his direction, Eldandil stiffly told her sister, "That's enough pressure. Once the storeroom is unbarricaded, we will be able to use some of the herbs Mist saved from the fire. Do not worry, Legolas. Your wound was deep, but not deadly, and the rest aren't bleeding too heavily. Nothing appears poisoned."

Legolas closed his eyes. He was in pain, but he was going to live. But what of Mist?

He never got the strength to ask. His injuries were still excruciating, and he was simply too tired to do anything but focus on staying conscious. He would have to find out her fate later.

* * *

 **So, what do you think? Good, bad, or what?  
Glawardes: So... I am alive?  
Me: So far... :) Anyway, thanks to _Kairak_ , _Grace_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Lord Illyren_ , and _Roxanne_ for reviewing! And thank you everyone else for even reading this! ICE CREAM FOR EVERYONE! *throws ice ream at computer screen* *computer shorts out* Shoot...**

 **To _Grace_ : Well, so far she hasn't, but maybe... *crazy look* *gets tackled by readers* Oh, that's too bad, but I'll remember your vote nonetheless! Thanks for voting! And yeah, I know. *evil laugh* Haha, actually several people have told me that they could see me taking over the world. Still not sure how to respond to that...**

 **To _Roxanne_ : Can I just say how much I love your reviews? Seriously, they're great! Oh, are you still in school? I'm on summer break at the moment. Hehe, hope you were still able to pay attention! And yes, that was the most recent chapter. Until now, anyway. And I do it mainly to see how people react. Like you. You're freaking out, which is really entertaining and feeding my evil-author-ness. XD But don't worry, I have this all planned out. No need for a padded room... yet. :) I shall not answer any of those questions. You will have to wait and see. ...Wow, I need to get my evil side a leash or something... I'm a bit frightened to find out how you'd react, actually. Uh oh. *hands you a parachute* Yeah, may have forgotten to install seatbelts... whoops... Hahaha, "falling off a cliff... hanger". I like that. :D Ah, don't worry. You can take the ice cream I gave everyone earlier! :)**


	29. Chapter 27: The Reveal

**You know what? I'm an amazing person. I just finished this chapter _in one day_ , and instead of waiting until next week to give it to you, I'm giving it to you today. So you just got _two updates_ in one day. So if you haven't already, MAKE SURE YOU READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER! I repeat: THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY!**

 **I've already told you to vote today, so... on with the show!**

* * *

Glawardes laid on the makeshift bed, urging the poppy juice to have some effect on her aching body. No, not aching, more like _stabbing_. Yes, that was it. She had a stabbing pain in her ribs.

She had woken up mere minutes before to this same pain, not remembering anything that had happened after she had told Eldandil about her identity. Eldandil had been there when she had woken. The elleth had immediately given her some poppy juice, overjoyed. Then she had quickly excused herself and left, presumably to retrieve some more herbs.

Ever so gradually, the pain left Glawardes, allowing her to focus more on her surroundings. She appeared to be in the smithy, elevated on a few crates covered in hay and cloth. The bunnies were sleeping on the ground, curled together in a tightly knit pile in the hay. The smithy was otherwise completely empty, every bench, anvil, metalwork, et cetera having been used to create the traps or stolen by the orcs.

Glawardes still couldn't get over the fact that they had survived. They just weathered a massive invasion of trained orcs with little more than a handful of villagers. Yes, they had suffered casualties, but for the most part they had miraculously survived. Only Eru's will could have kept them alive.

And speaking of Eru's will, he must have wanted Glawardes to stay in Middle Earth a while longer, for the wound in her side should have logically killed her. It was currently wrapped in a red cloth, a cloth that in all likelihood used to be white. Glawardes could smell the herbs undoubtably lathered onto her torn skin, and she could feel that the wound was deep. Too deep.

"Legolas is on his way to see you," Eldandil's voice proclaimed softly, interrupting Glawardes's musings. So she had left to inform the others, not to gather more herbs. Glawardes nodded absently, not really caring at the moment. She was so tired, and resting would allow the wound to heal faster. Her eyes began to drift shut and she laid back down, incoherently telling Eldandil to wake her when he arrived. Then she remembered the secret she had shared with the elleth, and her eyes snapped open. Eldandil guessed her urgent, unspoken questions and shook her head, "He wishes to discuss what you plan to do now that the village is destroyed. I have not told him of your identity. I felt that you should be the one to inform him that his mother is not dead."

Glawardes felt her panic ease a little. He didn't know yet. Good. But now she again faced the choice of telling him. Should she? After all, she had only considered it before because she was certain of her impending death, and now that she was very much alive that incentive was no longer relevant. That fact still remained that she had betrayed them all those many years ago by giving the orcs all the information she had. Such an unforgivable crime was irredeemable. The wrongdoer - herself - was certainly unlovable because of it. Glawardes shook her head, "I can not."

"Well I certainly will not tell him!" Eldandil exclaimed, surprised. Her visible shock grew when Glawardes answered softly, "I do not want you to. I do not want him to know."

"Why not?" Eldandil asked almost innocently, but the challenge in her voice was still present. Despair began to wind its way around Glawardes's heart. Eldandil wouldn't understand. No one would, really. All they would want is the truth. But couldn't they understand just how unthinkable that was? No one who knew what she had done could love her. She had fallen too far from grace and mercy. Still, the elleth was clearly expecting an answer, "Hmm… Suppose that there was a woman who was kidnapped by her husband's enemy. While there, she told the enemy all of her husband's secrets. The enemy battled against her husband, and all of his work went to ruin and was twisted by the enemy. What, then, would the woman do when she finally escapes?"

"Go to her husband and beg forgiveness," Eldandil answered, confused. Then realization dawned on her face, "Oh…"

Glawardes nodded, averting her watering eyes, "You see, Eldandil? I can never go back to them. I don't deserve to be loved because of what I have done. They can not love me, and I would rather not suffer the pain and humiliation of being rejected by those I love most. And if they do not reject me, what does that make me? An unpunished criminal? A hated traitor? How could I live like that?"

Out of the corner of her teary eye, Glawardes could see Eldandil shake her head and draw closer. Glawardes began to tell her to stay away, fear bouncing through her nerves, but her voice strained and broke before she could make a sound. Eldandil hesitated for a moment, and Glawardes was sure that her punishment would come early. But then the elleth did something strange. She bent down and gently enveloped Glawardes in a firm embrace, "No one _deserves_ to be loved. Love is never _earned_. Love is a gift, a promise to always care for each other and to always be there for each other. Legolas and King Thranduil do not love you so little as to be swayed by betrayal. In fact, they have both been grieving in your absence. Thranduil and Legolas keep leading search parties to find you, ever since you were captured. The orcs told Legolas you were dead! He has been _devastated_!"

Concerned guilt battled with uneasy doubt as Glawardes debated this new information. Could it be possible that they still truly loved her? Was it true that she was again hurting them, this time by hiding? Could they forgive her for the grief she was causing?

Tears slid down her cheeks as she began to silently cry into Eldandil's arms, the shame of it all welling up inside of her to the point where it was overflowing. She couldn't face it. If given a mirror, she wouldn't even be able to look at herself with this burden. She had spent the past couple thousand years running from her problems, from the shame, and from the pain. And now? She wasn't any stronger than before.

"You have to tell him," Eldandil whispered, her voice no more than a soft breeze. Glawardes furiously shook her head and sobbed, "No! I c- can't! He- he will ha- hate me!"

"He will not hate you!" Eldandil exclaimed, soothingly rubbing Glawardes's back. "He loves you. Thranduil loves you. They want you to be with them."

I told Legolas I was dead," Glawardes quietly wailed. "I told him… I said…"

"Shh," Eldandil shushed. She was silent for a while as Glawardes continued to cry, slowly pulling herself together. Then the younger elf spoke again, "Did I ever tell you about my parents? They both perished fighting a fire that was threatening Rivendell. A family friend had told us of their fate in a letter. But do you know what? Even if Ada himself had written that letter and Nana had sealed it, I would still be overjoyed to have them back. I miss them. I never got to say farewell. I never had the chance to tell them that I loved them!"

Now they were both crying, comforting each other and healing through the tears. At length, Glawardes managed to calm herself enough to more fully tend to Eldandil's needs, thinking to herself, _'I must tell him, no matter the consequences. I have to. It will be the hardest thing I have and shall ever do, but I must. For his sake.'_

Eldandil was calming herself down now, so Glawardes dried both of their wet cheeks and tried to banish her fears. But before she could gather enough courage, Legolas and Elhadril stepped in, both appearing extremely happy to see her awake. Elhadril smiled brightly, "We thought for a moment that you were with Mandos!"

"Eru must have stepped in. That is all I can say," Glawardes responded, all bravery vanishing at the sight of her son. She couldn't do this. She couldn't.

"I am glad to see that you are well, Mist," Legolas also smiled, wincing with each step he took. Glawardes's eyes took in all of his bruises, scratches, long cuts, and deep stab-wounds. He looked positively terrible! She didn't even want to know what that bloody bandage on his abdomen was hiding…

"Are you well?" Elhadril suddenly asked, taking note of her silence. Glawardes blinked, trying to ignore Eldandil making odd "tell him" motions behind the two elves, "Yes, I am fine. Just… sore."

"Are you well enough for travel?" Legolas asked, concerned. "Because I instructed the villagers to move. There is nothing left for them here, and the orcs may come back. They will leave tomorrow at dawn."

Glawardes glanced at the door, noting the warm yellow light streaming in through the cracks. Her eyebrows furrowed and she turned back to Eldandil, "How long have I been asleep?"

"All night," Eldandil answered, stopping her crazy hand signals until Legolas and Elhadril's attention shifted back to Glawardes. Glawardes frowned, still refusing to acknowledge the elleth's crazy dance, "I should not be moved for at least another two days, longer if it becomes infected."

"We can tell the villagers to delay their departure," Elhadril quickly offered. Glawardes slowly shook her head, a bit of sadness creeping into her voice, "I must leave the villagers. It is because of me that they were safe for so long, yet I am also to blame for the orcs' wrath."

"Then you should stay with us on our journey to Mirkwood, at least until you have healed," Legolas suggested. Glawardes's hesitation was long as she contemplated what going with them would mean. She would have a longer time to figure out if she wanted to tell Legolas the truth, and she could always slip away during the night if she chose to. If she did tell him, then she would have to go to Mirkwood anyway. It would be ideal if they could stay away from elven settlements on the way there, but that was unlikely to happen, and if she was recognized…

"I think that that would be wise, yes. At least until I figure out what I shall do next," Glawardes agreed with a nod. Eldandil hung her head exaggeratedly for a moment and continued signaling for her to go ahead and spill the beans. Glawardes continued to ignore the elleth and instead listened to Elhadril, "Good. Um… there are three routes we could take on our journey to Mirkwood. We could go through Caradhras, but that is unwise even with four healthy elves. So that leaves the Gap of Rohan and the High Pass."

"Gap of Rohan," Glawardes immediately voted. It would take longer, and they could avoid Lothlorien a lot easier than Rivendell. Legolas and Elhadril looked doubtful. Legolas spoke, "That would be about a twenty day journey, at least, if we had horses."

"We should take the High Pass and stop by Rivendell along the way. Elrond should be able to heal you faster than we could," Elhadril added. Eldandil was nodding emphatically behind them, mouthing, _'Say yes!'_

Glawardes knew that it was a three-to-one decision, so she consented, "Very well."

"Now we shall leave you to rest in peace," Legolas promised with another smile, turning towards the door. Eldandil hurriedly stopped making noticeable gestures and instead resorted to glaring at Glawardes urgently. Elhadril gave Glawardes a mischievous grin, "You know, I would have thought that you would have defended yourself better."

Suddenly, Glawardes found herself remembering a time back in Mirkwood, watching a younger Legolas plead with his father to let him fight. _"You cannot fight in this battle. Maybe when you are older you can help me lead the soldiers against our enemies, but not today," Thranduil was telling the young elfling._ She remembered that her son had then turned to her for support. _Her mouth pulled into a gentle smiled as she told him, "It is all right, Legolas. We promise to stay safe. Besides, the battle won't be near as exciting as you think."_ Legolas had pouted some more and stomped away, angrily muttering about how Glawardes wasn't capable of defending herself.

Glawardes pushed the scene from her mind and forced herself to smile at Elhadril's jest. Then she noticed that Legolas had paused in the doorway, a pained expression briefly flashing across his face. Was he remembering the same scene from so long ago?

Everything Eldandil had said flitted through Glawardes's mind. _'Love is a gift…You have to tell him…He loves you. Thranduil loves you. They want you to be with them…'_

In an instant, the sorrowful look was gone from Legolas's face. He glanced at Elhadril, "Come, we must help the villagers prepare for their journey."

"Wait!"

Everyone's gaze fell onto Glawardes, confused at her outburst. Eldandil looked enthralled and was practically bouncing up and down, so the older elf did her absolute best to completely ignore her as she looked directly at Elhadril, "In truth, someone dear to me once said that I couldn't defend myself."

She could see Legolas's shocked face, but refused to look directly at it, still watching Elhadril. Elhadril simply appeared confused, "That was a mean thing to say to you."

Glawardes risked a glance at her son. His gaze was locked onto her, overwhelmed tears threatening to escape his eyes. She found that she couldn't look away from him and threw caution to the wind, "But you, Legolas… You are more than a match for most of the Guard. I told your father that you would be Captain one day. Did he ever give you that position?"

By now, Glawardes was crying with her son as she watched amazement and awe and happiness and _love_ cycle through his face and out his eyes in streams. He looked as if he was about to collapse with the news, but there was no anger, no hate to be found. A wide, deliriously happy smile spread across her face as she hoarsely forced out the truth that had been so carefully buried, "Legolas… I'm your mother."

Legolas broke free from his frozen position at the door and eagerly strode to her side, each movement slow and reverent, as if in a dream one didn't ever want to wake up from. And yet he seemed to reach her in no time at all. The two just stared at each other, weeping, mother watching her son and son looking upon his mother. Then Legolas collapsed onto his knees and hugged her, unabashed. Glawardes returned the embrace passionately, kissing his cheek and holding her son for the first time in centuries. Legolas was crying out happily, his voice breaking, "Nana! Nana!"

"I'm here! I'm here! I will not leave you again!" Glawardes promised, stroking his hair and holding him close. Through her tears, she could see Eldandil embracing her sister with joy, happy tears streaming down her face as well as she smiled brightly at Glawardes. Glawardes laughed, euphoria coursing through her. Her son still loved her. _He loved her!_

And poor Elhadril just stood there, looking around at the scene with upmost confusion. Her gaze flicked between each sobbing, overjoyed elf, and after a few minutes she spoke, "What just happened?"

* * *

 **Hahaha! I did it! Yay! The moment we've all been waiting for! Er... one of them, anyways. So... yeah. How did I do?**

 **I know that I posted the previous chapter this morning, so most of you haven't had time to review yet, but thanks to _Uruviel Phoenix_ for reviewing! Wow, you read this fast! :)**


	30. Chapter 28: Bad News

**Hi, everyone! Ok, so double update today. Also, as of the 26th, I will have officially been posting this for a year! I'm never going to escape this... I mean yay! :)**

 **So, these are the last few chapters, so LAST CHANCE TO VOTE! Please! Go and vote on which fanfic I should work on next! I beg you!**

* * *

Beldir led Colon and Aduialdis into Mirkwood's throne room, all of their heads bowed with grief and submission. Their journey home had been delayed by Tingon's wounds, which had forced them to continue traveling to Rivendell so that he could be healed there. They had inquired Lord Elrond on Legolas's whereabouts and discovered that he had left Rivendell some time ago. Elrond had given them fresh horses and quickly sent them on their way back home to tell the Elvenking, promising to send scouts to look for the prince.

Thranduil was sitting on his throne, his air of authority around him as usual. But Beldir noticed that his usually stoic aura was gone. The Guardsman turned his eyes up briefly, trying to catch a glance of his king through his eyelashes. Thranduil seemed tense. His hands were gripping the armrests of his throne, his back was rigid and leaning forward slightly, his eyes were locked onto the three elves humbly making their way to him.

Beldir quickly returned his eyes to the floor and tightened his grip on Legolas's bow, which was carefully wrapped in ornate silver cloth. There was no doubt that the Elvenking had already guessed what they had to say. He had gone through this before. But nonetheless, Beldir still went through the platitudes one always said when bearing news of this grave magnitude, "My king, we come with bad tidings."

The Elvenking made no sound, but Beldir noticed that his knuckles were white. He probably didn't trust his own voice. Beldir waited patiently for Thranduil to acknowledge his words - which came as a curt nod - and continued, "We were attacked by orcs in the High Pass. During this battle, Tingon was injured and Aduialdis was thrown off of her mare. Aduialdis lost her bow and collected all that she could find to inspect in the morning. At dawn, she discovered that one of the bows belonged to your son… I'm sorry."

Beldir respectfully lifted the wrapped bow up to his king. Thranduil took it and slowly, dreadfully pealed back the silky cloth, as if he wanted to know but not to confirm Legolas's fate. Beldir watched an agony above all others spread across his beloved liege's face as the bow was revealed. The Elvenking sat there for a few moments, the bow in his trembling hands, his eyes squeezed shut and his face crinkling into one of upmost pain. Then he threw back his head and unleashed a feral shout, unintelligible and feral, like a lion who found his mate and cubs all slaughtered while he was away. It was a cry of anger, of grief, of terrible suffering of the soul.

Beldir motioned for Colon and Aduialdis to silently wait outside. It would not do for them to watch their king in such a hurt, vulnerable state. They nodded and quietly left, not making a sound as they slipped out of the room. Then Beldir fully turned his attention to Thranduil. The Elvenking's cry was ebbing, gradually giving way to his usual stoic demeanor. But something was different now. Thranduil had been a bit cold since Glawardes's disappearance, but now he appeared… uncaring. Truly untouchable, without emotion. Beldir understood now. He had been defeated. He didn't want to carry on.

"Elvenking?" Beldir asked tentatively once Thranduil had fallen silent. His king was silent for a few more moments before answering hoarsely, "I wish to sail to Valinor. Maybe there, I can find peace."

Thranduil sounded so broken, so lost… Beldir met his tired gaze with as much understanding as he could, "Elrond is sending scouts to look for him. They might have found him already."

"No," Thranduil dismissed. "It is no use. I have sent years - centuries - looking for my beloved Glawardes… denying the truth. She is gone, and so is Legolas. I never should have-"

At this, Thranduil's voice broke completely, and Beldir barely caught sight of a few tears falling to the floor before his king bowed his head and covered his face. When he looked up again, he had a certain resigned sternest to his voice that frightened Beldir more than his king's anger, "Ready my mount. I ride for the Grey Havens tomorrow. Let the people decide their next ruler once I have left these shores, for Oropher's line has failed."

"But dear Elvenking!" Beldir protested, "What if the Valar do not allow you to sail to Valinor?"

Thranduil gave him an unshakable, level look, "Then I shall go to Mandos, and maybe see my family there."

* * *

 **Yeah... so Thranduil's not exactly a happy camper... And this was a really short chapter... But the next one is longer and happy so don't kill me please!**

 **Thanks to _Kairak_ , _Grace_ , _somersset_ , _DD_ , _guest_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _Roxanne_ , and _Lord Illyren_ for reviewing! You guys have been such an inspiration and encouragement to me throughout the past year. I still get excited whenever I have a new review! I love you all! :D**

 **To _Grace_ : Thank you! I hope you did. Wait, were you really crying? :D I brought someone to tears of joy! Time to cross that off my bucket list...**

 **To _DD_ : Yep, and that special person is coming next... :)**

 **To _guest_ : I hope that I did the battle well. And I'm glad that you liked the reunion! You'll have to read to find out the rest... *semi-evil laugh***

 **To _Roxanne_ : Yay! I'm glad that that scene was exceeding expectations! And I'm glad Elhadril made you laugh! Did you really think that I had killed her? XD Yeah, not so much. I just wanted a scene where Legolas had to defend his mom. Hahaha, I'm sure you could write a scene like that no problem. :) I get cake? Yay! *grabs cake***

 **To _Roxanne_ (again): Hahaha, oops! XD I'm glad you think that. I was really worried that it was something Legolas wouldn't do, but I threw it in there anyways. Yeah, I never really solidified my count of the number of villagers... so let's just say that a lot of them ended up dying... In fact, every man who was an adult and not an archer (besides Marroc, the filthy little...) died. Hahaha, then let's be glad that you aren't in there! WHAT? *pulls out sleep dart* Go get some sleep or I shall make you! Oh, but what sort of novel are you writing? Hehe, if your phone doesn't want the cake I could get some... XD**

 **Anyways, thanks guys! On to the next chapter!**


	31. Chapter 29: The Reunion

**MAKE SURE THAT YOU READ THE CHAPTER BEFORE THIS ONE! Double update today!**

 **Also, I'm serious. Vote. Vote now.  
Glawardes: They don't care about voting. They just want to see my family back together. And so do I, so hurry up! :)  
Me: O.o What are you doing here? You aren't about to die, so get back in the story! *pushed Glawardes off stage* ... Anyway, VOTE!**

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Legolas still couldn't believe it. He actually had his Nana back. Ha! He didn't know what to do with himself. What does one do when one finally finds his mother?

They had caught up, telling each other what had happened in Mist - Glawardes's - very long absence. He had gotten a little angry when he had learned of the reason she had never come home, but she had seemed genuinely sorry about it. Apparently, the orcs had convinced her that she had messed up beyond forgiveness.

Never, in all his life, had Legolas imagined that orcs could get any worse.

But she was safe now, and that was all that mattered. Currently, the four elves were approaching Rivendell. They had said their goodbyes to the villagers, with Cadi and Modron being the saddest to see them go and Marroc being the happiest. Legolas had given a small, sentimental farewell to little Dera, who had been charged with the baby bunnies to by Elhadril and Eldandil.

Legolas glanced at Glawardes, monitoring how she was faring. Her wound was healing well enough, but Lord Elrond's expertise was required for her to properly mend. She was riding on Tinnuroch, and though the mare was as gentle and smooth as any elf-horse, she looked inexplicably tired. She shoulders were hunched and her eyes were half-closed. Legolas called out encouragingly, "Do not worry. We are almost there."

"That's what you told me yesterday," Glawardes countered with a forced smile, meeting his gaze briefly before slumping back into her original position. Concern nagged at Legolas's heart, but he pushed it away for her sake. The sooner they got to Rivendell, the better.

Eldandil and Elhadril were on either side of Tinnuroch, just in case Glawardes suddenly became weak and fell. Legolas was at the head of the group, pulling on the mare's lead and guiding them all to Imladris as fast as he dared. They had made good time, but Legolas constantly feared that they were not moving fast enough. He wasn't about to lose his mother again.

"Should I run ahead and get help?" Elhadril asked suddenly. Legolas glanced back at his mother again. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but she didn't look too good… He nodded, "Make haste."

Elhadril returned the nod briskly and took off. Eldandil looked a little wary of their decision, but evidently decided not to question it. Legolas could understand her uneasiness. Last time they were here, Elhadril was kidnapped by orcs.

How strange that that event led him to his mother. The Valar must have been watching over them, because in all likelihood they should have been killed during those recent events. The chances of them finding his mother and surviving at all were basically nonexistent, yet there they were, almost in Rivendell and only slightly worse for wear.

"Legolas?" Glawardes's voice brought him out of his musings. He quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure that she was all right. Finding that she was, he continued to focus on getting her to Elrond and responded, "What troubles you?"

"Do you think that your father… that the Elvenking…" her voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. Legolas felt something tug on his heart when she called her true love by his formal title. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair that she should be so unsure of herself and her husband as to resort to putting him above herself like that. They were married. They were supposed to be a team.

"I think that _your husband_ will be overjoyed to see you," Legolas answered. He heard his mother sigh contentedly and Eldandil promise reassuringly, "Do not worry. He still loves you. He always has."

They walked for a few more minutes in silence, which was interrupted when Elhadril shouted in front of them, "Legolas! Glawardes! Come quickly!"

Legolas stiffened at the sight of Elhadril sprinting back towards them, automatically remembering their recent ordeal with all of the orcs. His eyes quickly scanned the area behind Elhadril, even as he dropped Tinnuroch's lead and sprinted towards the elleth, trusting Eldandil to watch over his mother. No orcs appeared, but Elhadril's distress became more apparent, "Legolas! Glawardes! Eldandil! _Come hither_!"

"What is wrong?" Eldandil called to her sister, who appeared too agitated to explain properly. Legolas finally reached Elhadril and gently grabbed her wrist, carefully pulling her back to the others, keen eyes still peeled for orcs. Elhadril yanked her wrist free, catching Legolas off guard, and pointed towards Rivendell, shouting, "We have to go! Legolas, your father! He is riding to the Grey Havens!"

"What?" Legolas gasped. His father was riding to the Grey Havens? He was going to sail to Valinor? Why? Legolas thought back to the letter he had sent his father. The Elvenking shouldn't be expecting them back for a few more days. Had someone found the remains of their camp after the orc attack?

"He is traveling fast, and he just left Rivendell!" Elhadril reported swiftly. Legolas thought fast, "Did you try to catch them?"

"I- No, I- I didn't… I panicked and…" Elhadril stammered, eyes tearing up with shame at how little she had thought that through, but Legolas was no longer paying attention. He sprinted back towards Tinnuroch and swung himself onto the mare, sitting behind his mother. He urged Tinnuroch into a gallop, pausing only long enough to shout at the sisters, "Continue to Rivendell and stay together!"

Legolas noticed his mother wince as Tinnuroch picked up speed, no longer traveling smoothly. He tightened his grip around her and apologized, "Forgive me, but Ada is riding for the Grey Havens. We have to stop him."

Glawardes nodded, and both elves soon found themselves on the road away from Imladris. His elven eyes could see a band of horses ahead of them, traveling quickly. And yet, even from this distance, Legolas thought that he picked up a bit of reluctance in the group's demeanor, as if they didn't want to admit that this was happening. If Legolas could reach the group in time, they wouldn't have to.

"Noro lim. Noro lim!" Legolas commanded Tinnuroch. The mare was in a full-on sprint now, straining to go faster still. Legolas was suddenly grateful that, as elves, he and his mother were naturally light-weighted, allowing Tinnuroch to travel with a speed she wouldn't normally be able to handle with other species. He only hoped that it was enough.

"Ada! Father!" Legolas called out. The group was still a great distance away, and Legolas wasn't sure how much longer Tinnuroch could keep up her pace. He thought that he saw the group slow fractionally, but they picked up speed again so quickly that he wasn't sure. He called again, "Elvenking! Thranduil! Halt!"

"I do not think he can hear you, Legolas," Glawardes gently pointed out. Legolas almost growled with frustration and tried again, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Ada, please!"

This time, one of the elves in the group turned around and, upon spotting Legolas, quickly stopped his comrades. Legolas felt giddy excitement well up inside him like a spring, a triumphant laugh briefly escaping his lips as he imagined how his father would react to this. His mother simultaneously managed to relax and tense up as they neared the group of elves, Tinnuroch's pace slowing to something a lot easier on her hurt ribs. Legolas tried to reassure her, "He's going to be happy to see you again, Nana."

"I hope so," Glawardes responded, her voice almost too soft to hear. Legolas frowned, but any answer he had was cut short at the sight of his father's horse wheeling around and sprinting towards them. Legolas was elated to see his father again. Glawardes, however, seemed frightened, "Let me down, Legolas. I feel faint."

Legolas did as he was told and stopped Tinnuroch, dismounting and helping his mother to do the same. She looked pale, and Legolas couldn't fully understand why. She had talked about how she had battled countless orcs, faced torture, defeated trolls and wargs and wolves… but this… _this_ scared her? Meeting her husband for the first time in thousands of years? Having her family whole again… that scared her?

"Legolas, I know what you are thinking, and please do not look down on me," Glawardes requested softly, her voice trembling. Legolas became worried that she might actually faint and moved to hold her up as he replied, "I just do not see why you should be scared. Ada loves you. Our family will be whole again."

"I am just afraid that it will not be," she admitted just before Thranduil reached them, his face shining with astonishment.

* * *

Glawardes felt her heart-rate quicken dangerously as she saw the absolute disbelief plastered on her husband's face. Was this a good sign, or a bad one? Did his doubt come from love or hate? Her fear began to sing into her mind, _'He doesn't forgive you! He doesn't forgive you! He will scorn you! He doesn't forgive you!'_

Glawardes almost took a step back as Thranduil dismounted his horse, but Legolas was behind her and it was too late to turn back. She had been running from this for long enough. It was about time she faced the one fear that had nagged at her for so long.

Tears, frightened and ashamed, leaked out of her eyes, and she turned her face to the ground in an effort to hide them as Thranduil slowly approached. Were his slow steps reverent or calculated? His hand just slipped into a knapsack on his horse, near the wither; what did he grab?

Warning bells danced around in Glawardes's head as he gently took her hand in his own, but she didn't move. What ever happened now, happens. She just didn't expect…

Ever so carefully, Glawardes felt a ring slip onto her finger, and after that a bracelet slid into place on her wrist. Through her tears, she could see that they were the ones she had lost so long ago. She finally looked up, unsure of what her husband meant by this. But the almost possessive love and fierce compassion in his gaze left no doubt in her mind. He welcomed her back. He wanted her. He loved her, just as Legolas did and just like Legolas had promised.

They both just stood there for a while, content to savor the moment, to enjoy each other's presence. Glawardes studied every inch of her husband's face; he did the same with her. His lips broke into a smile; Glawardes felt hers do the same. Finally, _finally_ , he breathed her name, so cautious with his words that he seemed afraid that she might disappear, "Glawardes? Is this really you? Are you really alive, or am I in a dream? For if this is a dream, I vow to never wake."

Glawardes felt her heart flutter at his words. She felt her smile grow, "I am here, my love. I am alive."

Thranduil's smile also grew, and he wrapped his arms around her in a firm embrace, gently pulling her closer to him, "Then I promise to never let you go."

Glawardes was pretty sure that her knees had mysteriously disappeared, and her heart was doing funny things, but she didn't care anymore. All that mattered was that he was there, with her, holding her, protecting her. All that mattered was how he looked at her, how his head was leaning closer to hers, how his lips were inches away…

* * *

Elhadril was sprinting through the forest, some distance behind her sister. Eldandil was determined to see the family reunion, and Elhadril was determined to make sure her sister didn't kill herself on the way there. All the same, Eldandil didn't know where she was going, and Elhadril couldn't keep up.

"Run swiftly, Elhadril! Or we shall never see them!" Eldandil called back from her position a few meters in front of her sister. Elhadril retorted, "I am the smart one, not the strong one! You do not know where you are going!"

"Neither do you!"

"Yes, I do! Based off of how quickly Tinnuroch can travel with two riders and how swiftly Thranduil's party was riding, Legolas and Glawardes should get someone's attention at about-"

"Fine, you know how to get there! Where do I- OOF!" Eldandil gasped as she tripped on a rock. Elhadril caught up to her and asked worriedly, "Are you well?"

"Yes," Eldandil answered quickly, rolling over into a sitting position and checking her ankle. She wiggled her foot and reported, "It is just a scratch."

"Then try to keep up," Elhadril smirked, taking the lead. If her prediction was correct, they should be right about… There! Elhadril quickly and quietly slowed down and ducked behind a bush, doing a double-take as her gaze fell upon the Elvenking and his wife. The two were passionately locked in a kiss, as if they hadn't been able to do so in a very long time - which, Elhadril supposed, they hadn't. Elhadril felt the sides of her mouth turn down and she looked away, _'Eww!'_

Eldandil materialized beside her, also in a crouch behind an adjacent bush. Her sister looked as if she could die of happiness, and her mouth was in a little 'o' shape, as if she was watching the cutest thing in the world. Elhadril buried her face in her hands, ashamed that her sister was watching this private moment and not looking forward to listening to Eldandil talk about it later.

Another presence suddenly sat down beside them, and Elhadril looked over to see a very overwhelmed Legolas. She silently patted his arm in congratulations. He gave her a confused smile in return. Apparently, he didn't know what to make of his parents' public display of affection. Elhadril gave him a sympathetic look and mouthed, _'It will be over soon.'_

* * *

 **Yeah, so... that might not have been the best ending. Which is why I AM PLANNING AN EPILOGUE! So, if you have anything that you want to see in said epilogue, please tell me in a review! :)**

 **Also, I knew that some of you would be happiest with a kissing scene, but I wasn't very comfortable writing one (I'm not even very comfortable reading one), so this was the result... hope it didn't stink... like my love life... DX**

 **Oh, and confession time: Eldandil was based off of my best friend in the whole wide world. Which is part of the reason why she wasn't captured or tortured in the beginning. Elhadril was based a bit on myself (hate all you want this is my story). So that's why those characters may or may not seem a bit off at times. Sorry. We created this idea together, so like any self-respecting fangirls, we added ourselves to the story. And now I'm apologizing.**

 **Anyway, everyone have a great day! Thanks for giving this story a chance! AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT TO BE IN THE EPILOGUE! :)**


	32. Epilogue

**Whoohoo! I'm done! Finally! *does happy dance* :) I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I have. Maybe a bit more, based on my own reaction, but... *shrugs***

 **Also, shoutout to _Uruviel Phoenix_ and _leggyrespect123_ for suggesting what the epilogue should look like! I hope this doesn't disappoint you guys!**

 **And please VOTE! It's not too late! I probably won't ever close it, to be honest. Well, I guess that I'll have to, but I'll always have a similar one in its** **place. So... VOTE!**

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That had been a little more than seven years ago, and Glawardes was happier now than she had ever been since her capture. Nothing was as it was before that fateful battle - the world had changed too much. But she was simply glad to be with her family. Her family that loved her and cherished her and made her feel absolutely stupid for believing anything else.

Currently, Glawardes was laying on her bed, content to do nothing but rest and relax. It was morning, and Thranduil had already left to oversee the kingdom's proceedings. Glawardes would normally be with him, but the forming bump on her stomach was beginning to hinder her ability to effectively aid her husband in that way.

A smile etched itself onto Glawardes's face as she thought of Legolas's new sibling currently growing inside herself. She gently rested a protective, gentle hand on her stomach and remembered when Legolas had been born. She hadn't been able to watch Legolas grow into the elf he was now, but she would be able to be there for this one. Her smile turned solemn, "I promise, my dear child, that I shall not fail you as I did him."

"I hope that you are not speaking of me," Legolas's voice drifted from the bedroom door. Glawardes lifted her head up enough to see him smiling in the doorway. She smiled back and teased, "Should you not be ridding Mirkwood of spiders?"

"Actually, Ada put me on guard duty," Legolas smirked, abandoning his post by the door in favor of sitting on the bed. Glawardes laid her head back down and stared at the ceiling, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she thought of her husband. Thranduil was as kind and gentle and happy as ever. Something had changed in him deep down, some little dark pain had nestled its way into his heart that Glawardes wasn't sure would ever go away, but overall he was just as he had been: a good king and a loving husband.

"So I take it that you are not in the mood for a walk?" Legolas asked lightly. Glawardes closed her eyes and moaned, too comfortable to even think of moving, "No."

Glawardes heard her son chuckle softly. She opened her eyes to give him a joking glare, only to find him unwrapping a small bundle of cloth. Glawardes's brows furrowed, curious. Then Legolas revealed the cloth's contents to be some fresh cheese, fruit, and bread. He held them out to her, "I figured you would be hungry, so I smuggled these out of the kitchen."

As if in agreement, Glawardes's stomach rumbled longingly at the aroma quickly filling the room. She accepted the food and began to snack on it, asking between bites, "How are you faring?"

"I am well, now that you are back," Legolas promised. Glawardes smiled brilliantly at him, and he continued, "Elladan and Elrohir are coming hither in a few weeks. I expect that they shall be glad to see us again."

"And I shall have to make sure that Eldandil and Elhadril are on their best behavior," a new voice chuckled. Both elves turned around to find Thranduil smiling at them. He sat down on the bed beside Legolas and Glawardes, dodging the playful swat Glawardes gave him. She pushed herself into a sitting position and leveled him with a teasing look, "You are supposed to be working."

"But that is not nearly as rewarding as this," Thranduil smirked, gently pulling both Legolas and Glawardes into a warm, comforting, somewhat awkward, loving embrace. And none of them would have it any other way.

* * *

 **Yep. I'm done. This is** **really, truly over. Anyway, I hope that the ending was good, and if you guys have any questions that weren't answered, please let me know so that I can PM you (if you have an account) and squeeze the answer in this hodgepodge of a story. I'm seriously going to be in for a lot of editing, but oh well!**

 **Thanks to _kairak_ , _G_ _uest_ , _Grace_ , _Uruviel Phoenix_ , _leggyrespect123_ , _Lord Illyren_ , and _somersset_ for reviewing! And thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed, even the very minimal negative ones I received. And thanks everyone for finishing this tale with me! Cake for everyone, curtesy of _Roxanne_. XD **

**To _Guest_ : Thanks for reviewing! Oh... well, I'm sorry that it was a waste of time. But in my defense, I didn't make you read it. Also, if you could please refrain from cussing in the future, that would be appreciated. But I'll try to do better next time! I promise!**

 **To _Grace_ : Hello! Yeah, that chapter was sad, but the next one was great, right? Hahaha, here's the epilogue! I hope you enjoyed, and thanks so much for your support! It meant a lot!**

 **Well, see you guys. I'm done with this story. *plot bunny comes along* Aww... aren't you just an adorable... wait a minute... sequel? NOOOOOOO! *runs away* *gets chased by plot bunny***


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